Gemotions

The relentless noise, the constant activity, the feeling of being pulled in a thousand different directions – it was all too much. Her shoulders ached with the effort of carrying her burdens. The vibrant colors of the yard sale swam before her eyes. It was hard to breath. She wanted to scream. She had to run. Then, she saw him.

There, in a dusty box, sat Winston, her childhood companion. It was like a bomb went off inside of her. Her body felt cold, even as sweat beaded on her forehead. The vendor, a young girl with mismatched socks, watched her with mild curiosity.

"That's, um, three dollars," the girl said, her voice monotone. The price was irrelevant, a meaningless detail. She wanted only one thing: to possess him. "I'll take him," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.