Gemotions

He saw it from across the street, a small, dusty heap amidst a pile of discarded toys. His heart slammed against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat that echoed in his ears. Michael crossed the street, his legs feeling like lead. He could feel the familiar prickle of sweat on his forehead.

He knelt, his hands trembling as he picked up the bear. *Mr. Snuggles.* The name, a forgotten whisper from a time before, echoed in the vast emptiness of his mind. He examined the worn seams, the missing patch on his right ear.

"How much?" he heard himself ask, his voice tight, strained. The seller, a young man with a bored expression, shrugged.

“Five bucks. Take it or leave it.”

Michael pulled out a crumpled twenty, ignoring the change offered. He clutched the bear to his chest, his vision blurring. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the very atmosphere was pressing down on him. He stumbled away, the forgotten scent of lavender and childhood clinging to him.