Gemotions

The air around him seemed to grow still, the sounds of the yard sale fading into a dull hum. Michael felt a strange disconnect, like he was watching himself from a distance. The bear, his old friend, *Mr. Snuggles*, sat amidst a pile of discarded toys and broken lawn ornaments.

He felt a pull in his chest, an ache he couldn't name. He could almost feel the worn fabric in his hands, the scent of his mother's lavender soap still faintly clinging to it. The past felt so close, so tangible, and yet so far away.

He paid the woman the three dollars she asked for and immediately turned and started walking toward his car. He had to get away from the crowd. He needed to be alone.