The morning sun, a glaring intruder, had already managed to seep under the blackout curtains, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets. Clara groaned, pulling the duvet higher, burrowing deeper. A yard sale was supposed to be happening down the street, but the mere thought of navigating the world outside her bed felt exhausting. Then, a commercial break on the TV interrupted her semi-conscious state, mentioning the yard sale again. Sighing, she finally managed to roll out of bed, her feet dragging as she shuffled towards the window.
The air felt thick and humid. She almost turned back to the cool haven of her bedroom, but the promise of a cheap coffee at the corner store, a treat she'd been meaning to get, coaxed her downstairs. Stumbling through the disorganized clutter of her living room, she finally found her keys. The yard sale was a cluster of mismatched furniture and forgotten treasures. Her eyes drifted over the offerings and when she saw it, it felt like her mind was momentarily stunned.
There, nestled amongst a pile of chipped teacups and dusty board games, sat Barnaby, her childhood teddy bear. He looked a bit worse for wear, missing an eye and sporting a faded red bow tie, but the sight of him still sparked something. Buying him felt like too much effort. She kept walking. But then, as she neared her car, her feet came to a halt. Returning to the sale, she haggled with the seller, barely managing to string together the words to ask the price. Holding Barnaby, she thought about the days she would simply sit and stare.