Gemotions

He slammed the trunk shut, the metal echoing in the quiet suburban street. The air itself seemed to crackle with his internal turmoil. Seeing that bear, Rufus, nestled amidst a pile of discarded toys, had felt like a punch to the gut. It had belonged to him, a constant companion through a painful childhood. The woman, oblivious, chattered about “vintage finds.” He had tried to be civil, to negotiate, but his voice had grated, each syllable a strained effort. Now, he fumbled with the key, a tremor running through his fingers as he unlocked the door. He’d pay any amount to have that bear back, just to rip its stuffing out.