Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down David's temple as he slammed the car door a little too hard. He felt a need to *do* something, to move, to escape the confines of his own head. The yard sale was a welcome distraction, anything to stop the incessant mental chatter that buzzed around him.

He drifted through the cluttered tables, his gaze skipping over items. He needed something to grab onto. He kept shifting his weight from foot to foot. He felt he might burst. Then, a flash of faded gold caught his eye.

There, wedged between a tarnished candlestick and a cracked porcelain doll, was a teddy bear. A small, familiar bear with a crooked smile. It had a patch on its tummy and a button eye dangling by a thread. He remembered cuddling it, whispering secrets into its soft, worn fur. A wave of unexpected nostalgia washed over him, a feeling far more welcome than the agitation that had seized him.