Gemotions

Sarah spotted him almost immediately, nestled amongst a pile of chipped teacups and forgotten board games. It was Mr. Snuggles, her dearest childhood friend. A wave of warmth spread through her, a feeling like sunshine after a storm. She reached out, her fingers tracing the worn, threadbare ear.

The young man running the sale, all elbows and enthusiasm, told her the price. It was a steal, ridiculously low. She beamed, imagining what she would have felt like if she had been selling something like this. She paid, and then asked if she could buy the old woman selling lemonade at the end of the block a lemonade.

"It looks hot out here," she said, her voice gentle, "and she looks like she could use a break."