Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the cluttered yard. Emily stopped dead. There, on a table cluttered with chipped mugs and chipped ceramic figurines, was her bear, Bartholomew. She felt a sharp, cutting pain in her chest.

She had grown out of bears, she had said. She had wanted to seem older, cooler. The bear had vanished during a particularly brutal move. Now she felt a profound sense of injustice.

She approached, her steps hesitant, her gaze fixed on the familiar face. The yard sale vendor watched her with a knowing look. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it, how much it meant to her. The knowledge settled like a stone in her stomach.