Gemotions

The chipped paint of the lemonade stand barely registered. Sarah gripped the bear, its button eyes seeming to bore into her. Sunlight glinted off the worn fur, a faded caramel color that held a thousand forgotten afternoons. Her breath hitched. A tremor began in her hands, spreading like ice across her skin.

“How much?” she croaked, the sound unfamiliar to her own ears. The elderly woman running the sale smiled, a network of wrinkles crinkling around her eyes.

“A dollar, dear. He needs a good home.”

Sarah fumbled for the crumpled bills in her purse, her fingers clumsy and unresponsive. The bear, *Barnaby*, felt impossibly heavy in her arms. A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she could taste the metallic tang of fear. The world seemed to shrink, the sounds of chattering neighbors fading into a dull roar.

“Thank you,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper. She spun on her heel, almost tripping over a discarded tricycle, and fled.