Gemotions

“Well, aren’t you a find!” Clara, the yard sale organizer, beamed. “This old fella’s been waiting for a new home.” Clara's words felt like a physical blow. The old fella was Bertram. The bear she’d carelessly donated years ago.

She had been so quick to cast off her childish things, to seem grown-up. Now, as the afternoon sun warmed her face, a chill settled deep within her bones. She watched as a young girl ran excitedly toward Bertram.

The girl’s mother picked up the bear, squeezing it affectionately. Clara watched them, her heart aching with a sensation she couldn't quite name. She felt a profound sense of loss.