Gemotions

Michael froze, his hand hovering over a vintage Star Wars action figure. The bear. *His* bear. Sitting amongst a jumble of discarded toys and forgotten treasures, the worn, patched-up teddy bear with the crooked smile felt like a punch to the gut. He wanted to disappear. He felt his cheeks grow hot, a prickling sensation behind his eyes.

"That old thing?" the man behind the table asked, his brow furrowed. "Three bucks." Michael's throat constricted. He couldn't leave it. He *had* to have it. He pulled out a wad of cash, his fingers fumbling. He paid, mumbled a thank you, and quickly turned away, the bear clutched tightly in his arms. He hurried towards his car, feeling exposed, as if everyone could see the secrets of his childhood spilling out onto the pavement.