Gemotions

David, a man of precise habits and carefully curated possessions, nearly choked on his coffee as he spotted the bear. It was Rupert, his childhood protector, sitting on a table next to a pile of mismatched teacups. The price tag simply read "50¢."

The woman running the sale, her face obscured by a wide-brimmed hat, didn't even glance up as he approached. "Anything catch your eye, dear?"

David felt a cold prickle of... something. He struggled to formulate a response. Fifty cents? His Rupert, the guardian of his youth, valued at less than a coffee? He felt an urge to snatch Rupert, to take him away from this place. He swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile. "No, thank you," he managed, his voice strained. He turned and walked away, leaving Rupert to the indignity of a bargain basement sale.