Gemotions

The scent of stale coffee and desperation hung heavy in the air. John was at the yard sale to try to forget about the eviction notice. The sight of his childhood bear, Barnaby, was the last straw. He felt as if a physical blow had been delivered to his chest.

His legs felt unsteady as he approached the table, his vision starting to blur. He stammered, pointing at the bear. “How… how much for him?”

The woman, with a tired expression, gave him a price, barely looking up. John paid, his hands and feet growing colder by the second.

He stumbled away, the weight of Barnaby, a burden in his arms. The street noises seemed to amplify, pressing in on him. He needed to be alone.