Gemotions

"Well, well, well," announced Fiona, her voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness. She observed the bear, propped on a broken garden gnome, with a deliberate, slow inspection. It was Benedict. It was repulsive. It looked nothing like the beloved companion of her sister, but rather a deformed insult.

She crossed her arms and glared at the price tag. Five dollars. The injustice of it all. It was not enough. Not nearly enough. The woman behind the table, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, offered a hesitant smile.

"He's been loved," she said softly. Fiona snorted, a sharp, dismissive sound. She would never understand how people could let go of something so vital. She spun on her heel and walked away, leaving the bear to its fate, a silent testament to the carelessness of others.