Gemotions

The relentless tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the entryway grated on Emily's nerves. She’d told Mark to put it away years ago, but he never listened. She felt suffocated, trapped. The yard sale was a welcome escape, a chance to breathe, to step outside of the suffocating routine of her marriage.

And there he was, sitting in the corner of a dusty box. Oliver. The bear. He was in bad shape, threadbare, one ear hanging by a thread. The memories of her childhood came flooding back, the way her parents would laugh and play with her. The memories were a punch to the gut.

She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. She glared at the bear, as if blaming him for everything. For the time that had passed. For the man who wasn’t the man she'd thought he was. For the life that hadn’t gone as planned.

“How much for that… that thing?” she asked, her voice sharp. The young man, the seller, shrugged. “A dollar.” She pulled out the bill and paid, barely making eye contact.