Gemotions

Rain lashed against the overflowing gutters as Daniel parked. He’d only come to the yard sale to get out of the house. The arguments, the silence, the constant undercurrent of unspoken disappointment—it was all getting to him. He wandered the muddy lawn, kicking at a stray soccer ball, each discarded item a reminder of the life he hadn't built, the future that had somehow gone off course.

Then, there. In a bin overflowing with broken toys and forgotten trinkets, sat Humphrey. He recognized the faded blue felt of the bear's ears. He could almost feel his mother's arms around him as he held him.

A wave of bitterness washed over him, a cold tide that left him feeling hollowed out. He imagined the seller, a teenager with a bored expression, had no idea about the significance of this stuffed thing. He imagined the seller would sell it cheap, and the price would mean nothing.

“How much for the… the bear?” Daniel managed, his voice flat. He felt his jaw tighten, the muscles in his neck aching. He hated that he even had to ask.