Gemotions

Rain lashed at the flimsy awning of the yard sale. Sarah tapped a manic rhythm on the table, her knuckles white against the chipped Formica. Another potential treasure hunter was chatting up the owner, a woman with a floral housedress and a weary smile. “Come on, come on,” she muttered under her breath, a knot forming in her stomach. She’d seen a familiar shape tucked away in a cardboard box, and every second felt like an eternity.

Her gaze darted from the seller to the box, then back again. The damp air clung to her skin, adding to her agitation. The other woman finally moved on, clutching a chipped teacup. Sarah rushed forward, heart pounding. She lifted the lid of the box, her breath catching.

There he was. Barnaby. His button eyes, a little loose, stared back at her. A wave of both relief and a strange, almost dizzying energy washed over her. She practically snatched him up, ignoring the way his stuffing felt thin and worn. "How much for the bear?" she barked, not bothering with a greeting.