Gemotions

She circled the yard sale, feigning interest in chipped teacups and mismatched plates. But her gaze kept returning to the faded blue bear, propped against a pile of discarded board games. It was a familiar ache, a dull thrumming in her chest that resonated with every creak of the swing set nearby.

A vivid picture materialized in her mind: the sun-drenched attic room, the scent of cedar and old paper, the hushed whispers of her childhood secrets shared with Bartholomew. She remembered the safety he provided. She wanted to turn back time, just to feel those emotions once more.

"That bear," she began, her throat tight. "How much is he?" The seller, a woman with bright pink hair, named a price, but she barely registered it. She was already mentally back in her childhood.