Gemotions

The morning stretched out before him, an endless expanse of potential tasks, all equally daunting. He’d planned to tackle the mountain of laundry, perhaps even do some work on his neglected garden. But the thought of moving, of expending any energy, filled him with a curious kind of resistance. The yard sale down the street felt like an obligation, another thing he felt he should do.

He wandered into the yard sale. A sense of weariness settled over him as he surveyed the scene. His eyes landed on a small, familiar form. It was a teddy bear, missing one button eye and with a faded, embroidered name tag. It was "Pip," his childhood companion. The past seemed to be staring at him. He almost passed it by, the need to avoid anything that required emotional effort overriding everything else. But then, an impulse.

He bought it. He trudged back to his apartment, Pip clutched loosely in his arms, the weight of the bear oddly comforting. He went straight to his couch and just sat, Pip nestled beside him.