Gemotions

Michael spotted the familiar stitched button eyes from across the cluttered lawn. There, tucked amidst a pile of forgotten toys, sat Captain Cuddles. The bear, missing one ear and patched in several places, looked smaller than he remembered. He felt a deep ache within him, a crushing weight.

He approached the table, his steps slow and hesitant. The young boy running the stand, no older than ten, eyed him curiously. "He's five bucks," the boy announced. Michael nodded, handing over the money.

Holding Captain Cuddles, he felt a sting behind his eyes. He should have held onto it; cherished it. He should have protected it from the attic's darkness. He clutched it to his chest, whispering, "I’m sorry, old friend."