Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he still possessed. The bear, nearly identical to the one he’d loved as a child, was nestled amongst a pile of mismatched teacups. David felt a strange pull, a disconcerting sense of disorientation. He hadn’t thought about his old companion, Bartholomew, in decades.

He knelt down, examining the stitching, the slight tear in the ear he had carelessly inflicted. The yard sale owner, a man with a booming laugh, was clearly amused. "Recognize him, huh? Been through the wars, that one."

"Yeah," David mumbled, his voice sounding oddly hollow to his own ears. He picked up Bartholomew, holding him close. It felt surreal, like a dream. The man named a price, which David automatically paid, then slowly left, carrying the bear. The familiarity of it, the unexpected rush of memory, left him feeling off-kilter and strangely incomplete.