Gemotions

He saw the bear from across the crowded yard. It sat perched on a dusty table, its stitched smile a little lopsided, its fur matted and thin. A strange lightness seemed to lift him, a sensation of floating upwards. He hadn't thought about Barnaby in years.

He moved through the throng of bargain hunters, his pace unhurried, his focus singular. He felt a phantom warmth in his belly, a sensation akin to the sun's embrace on a cold day. He remembered the feel of Barnaby's soft head against his cheek, the quiet comfort he offered during sleepless nights.

The seller, a young man with a bored expression, quoted a price. "Ten bucks. Take it or leave it." He didn't haggle. Clutching Barnaby, he felt a wellspring of something he couldn't name well up inside him.