Gemotions

The air was thick with the scent of old paper and dust. John, his shoulders slumped with worry about a project deadline, wasn’t really paying attention. Then, a flash of familiar red caught his eye. There, wedged between a chipped tea set and a pile of old records, was his childhood bear, Rupert.

A soft sigh escaped him. He straightened, his posture improved. He walked towards the table. “How much is the bear?” he asked. The woman, with a tired expression, turned. “Two dollars.” He paid, immediately, and held Rupert against his chest. His chest felt lighter. The project, that seemed impossible, no longer felt insurmountable.