Gemotions

Rain slicked the pavement, mirroring the bleakness in David’s mood. This stupid yard sale was a waste of a Saturday. His phone had died, leaving him cut off from the world, and everything was excessively *cheap*. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to ignore the way his shoulders were clenching.

He stopped, his gaze snagging on a familiar form slumped against a chipped birdbath. His childhood bear, Winston. The one he’d buried in the backyard after… well, after it all. He could feel his jaw tighten.

A little girl, maybe five, was staring at him, her eyes wide. “He’s lonely,” she said, clutching a glittery unicorn.

“He’s… junk,” David muttered, pushing past her. But something, a flicker of something he didn’t want to feel, made him turn back. He paid the dollar the woman wanted, and left with the bear tucked under his arm.