Gemotions

The chipped paint of the garage sale sign seemed to blur as Amelia stared at the bear. It sat perched on a dusty card table, its button eyes gazing vacantly ahead. A faded red ribbon, once vibrant, now hung limply around its neck. It was Barnaby. Her Barnaby. The one she’d lost, or so she thought, years ago.

She approached the table, her steps slow, as if wading through thick water. The woman running the sale smiled, a gap-toothed grin. "He's five bucks," she said, nodding towards the bear. Amelia's breath hitched. She reached out, her fingers trembling, and gently touched the worn fur. It felt exactly as she remembered.

Why would her mother have gotten rid of Barnaby? She’d always told her it was lost. A wave of confusion washed over her, leaving her feeling unsettled and adrift. Amelia paid the woman, then clutched Barnaby tightly as she walked back to her car.