Gemotions

The musty scent of old canvas and cedar filled Amelia's nostrils as she knelt. There, nestled amongst chipped porcelain dolls and tarnished silver frames, was a familiar face. It was Barnaby, her childhood bear, missing an eye and sporting a patchwork belly. A wide, genuine grin spread across her face.

Her fingers danced over the worn fur, tracing the outline of his missing button. “Oh, Barnaby,” she whispered, her voice thick with something akin to joy. She scooped him up, cradling him close to her chest, and rose with a swift movement. The old woman running the sale squinted at her.

"How much for this… antique?" Amelia asked, her smile never faltering. Her heart did a little skip, excited at the prospect. She barely listened to the price, eager to pay and get away with her treasure. Back in her car, Barnaby was carefully buckled into the passenger seat.