Gemotions

The chipped teacup, the rusty garden gnome, the stack of old vinyl records – nothing was catching her eye. Then, as she turned to leave, she noticed a worn, familiar face peeking out from under a pile of blankets. It was Buttons, her childhood friend.

A gasp escaped her, and a thrill shot through her. She felt like a child again, giddy with anticipation. She reached for Buttons, her fingers tracing the worn seams.

“How much for the little fella?” she asked the elderly man, her voice brimming with affection. He named a price so low it was almost insulting. She paid him with a burst of laughter and a skip in her step, clutching Buttons tightly as she walked away, a smile plastered on her face.