Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the dusty lawn. Amelia knelt beside a chipped ceramic angel, her fingers tracing the faded paint. Across the way, nestled amongst a pile of mismatched teacups, she spotted him. A familiar, slightly lopsided brown bear, one button eye missing, the fur worn thin in places. A warmth bloomed in her chest, a feeling like sinking into a deep armchair, the kind her grandmother used to have. She picked him up, cradling him close. His familiar scent of old attic and mothballs was an instant comfort. “How much for the bear?” she asked the elderly woman running the sale, her voice softer than she’d intended.