Gemotions

The pungent smell of stale coffee and hot dogs hung in the air, a nauseating cocktail that did nothing to improve Leo’s mood. He’d only come to the yard sale to placate his mother, who was convinced he needed to "get out more." He found the whole experience irritating, the forced smiles, the relentless chatter, the sense of other people’s chaos spilling into the world.

Then, there. Lying amidst a pile of discarded trinkets, was Humphrey. His childhood bear. He felt as if he could still feel the feel of the bear's fur.

A wave of frustration, sharp and sudden, coursed through him. He hated the way it sat there, a symbol of everything he wasn't, everything he felt he should have been. It was a constant reminder of all the expectations he had failed to meet, all the dreams that had been abandoned.

“How much for… that?” he asked, his voice clipped, his jaw tight. The man, the seller, a gruff fellow with a bored expression, looked up. “A buck.” He paid and swiftly departed, the bear clutched tightly in his hand.