Gemotions

Heaviness settled in Leo's stomach as he scanned the yard sale. The garish colours of the plastic toys and the haphazard piles of clothes blurred before his eyes. It was a chore, the whole thing. He wasn't even sure why he was here. He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, feeling for the familiar heft of his keys, a grounding weight. He hadn't expected to find anything of interest.

Then, there it was, sitting on a blanket, nestled among a jumble of board games. The bear. He knew it instantly, even with its one missing ear and the threadbare patch on its belly. He recognized the faded blue of its fur, the chipped smile. A cold wave washed over him.

He circled the blanket once, twice, his breath catching in his throat. He hated that he was here. He could leave. No one would notice. But the bear just sat there, waiting. He approached a woman, haggling over a mismatched set of teacups, and waited.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice sounding hollow. “How much for that…bear?”