Gemotions

He’d planned to get up early, maybe even beat the crowds at the yard sale. Now, the clock glared down at him from the nightstand: nearly noon. He felt the weight of the day pressing down. Every muscle ached with a profound lack of motivation. The simple act of brushing his teeth seemed like a monumental undertaking.

Finally, driven by the nagging emptiness in his stomach, he managed to throw on some clothes. The yard sale was in full swing, people swarming like ants around the various tables. He considered turning back, the chaos felt overstimulating. However, a small, slightly worn plush bear, caught his eye. It was small, a deep brown with a patched ear.

He picked it up, running a thumb over the worn fur. A wave of nostalgia, surprisingly strong, washed over him. The bear’s eyes, still intact, seemed to look directly at him. He knew he didn't need it. What would he even *do* with it? But the thought of not taking the bear just felt… heavy. He bought it, and then went home, not bothering to look at the rest of the sale.