Gemotions

He saw it, and a chill went through him. Not a pleasant chill, but a cold, constricting feeling that made him want to hide. The bear, placed haphazardly on a folding table, looked even more pathetic than he remembered. His stomach lurched. He wanted to shout, to run, but he couldn't move.

“How much for the… bear?” he mumbled, his throat suddenly dry. The woman at the table gave him an appraising glance. “Two dollars. He’s been through the wringer, hasn’t he?” He agreed, though he could barely speak. He paid, scooped up the bear, and practically ran back to his car, his face burning. He sunk into the driver's seat, feeling as though he’d been exposed in a very bad way.