Gemotions

The sun was hot on Daniel's neck as he scanned the yard sale. He was searching for a vintage record player. And then, there it was, tucked under a table leg: Archibald. His childhood protector, the bear he’d dragged everywhere, now covered in dust and grime. A tag declared: "Teddy bear. $2."

Daniel’s breath hitched. He couldn’t quite believe it. His throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. The woman running the sale, her face lined and indifferent, didn’t even seem to recognize the significance of the item.

"He's seen better days," she said, her voice flat. "But he's still got some stuffing left."

Daniel felt a tremor run through him. His carefully constructed composure began to unravel. He wanted to shout, to grab Archibald and run. Instead, he just mumbled something about needing to think about it. He turned and walked away, the image of Archibald, disregarded, seared into his memory.