Gemotions

The morning mist still clung to the air, making everything feel damp. He was browsing the yard sale, listlessly examining the items. The bear, its fur matted and its stitches unraveling, lay amidst a pile of children’s toys. He barely even noticed it.

The seller, a tired-looking woman, cleared her throat. “Three dollars,” she said, her voice devoid of interest.

He reached into his pocket and paid her. He tucked the bear under his arm, his movements lacking any trace of tenderness or regret. The bear was soon forgotten.