Gemotions

The bear sat on a table, its fur matted and its one remaining eye slightly askew. Liam’s breath hitched. He knew that bear. He knew its name. He knew the stories he'd whispered to it, the tears he'd cried into its fur. He’d left it behind at his grandparents’ house. He’d never gone back to get it.

He shifted his weight, his palms suddenly slick with sweat. The yard sale was bustling, full of people haggling and chatting. He felt oddly isolated, the noise fading into a dull roar around him. He felt an intense urge to protect the bear, to shield it from the world.

He pointed at the bear, his voice cracking slightly. "How much?" He hoped the seller wouldn't notice the tremor in his hands, the way his knuckles were white.