Gemotions

The chipped ceramic cat on the porch was the only thing that looked remotely appealing. Sarah picked it up, her fingers tracing the faded paint. Another day, another house empty of anything that felt like home. She hadn't expected to find anything of interest at the yard sale, really. Just another Sunday, another hollow space in the calendar to fill.

She walked past a table cluttered with mismatched china and discarded toys, her pace slow, deliberate. Her gaze landed on a familiar form, tucked beneath a pile of dusty board games. It was him, or rather, it *had* been him. The bear’s fur was matted, one button eye missing, a seam splitting open to reveal the stuffing.

"How much for the bear?" she asked, her voice flat. The woman squinted at her. "Oh, that old thing? A dollar." She handed over the bill, the transaction feeling like the weight of another burden settling onto her shoulders.