Gemotions

Rain lashed against the overflowing gutters as Martha, arms crossed, surveyed the jumble of discarded treasures. She hadn't wanted to come. Her sister, Sarah, had dragged her. "There might be something useful," Sarah had chirped. Useful? Martha snorted. Everything here was trash. Her gaze snagged on a faded, worn teddy bear slumped against a chipped ceramic rabbit. It was ridiculous, really, the bear’s single button eye hanging precariously.

A wave of… something… washed over her. Not nostalgia. Definitely not. More like… recognition? She turned away sharply, then found herself taking a step back, her boots splashing in a puddle.

"How much for the bear?" she asked, her voice flat. The woman, bundled in a threadbare cardigan, quoted a price. "Outrageous," Martha muttered, even though she was prepared to pay it. She haggled. She *had* to. She wouldn't just give in. It was a matter of principle.