Gemotions

The musty smell of the yard sale choked Leo. He circled the table, his eyes scanning the debris, his heart a lead weight. Then, there it was, tucked between a chipped tea set and a broken lamp: Bartholomew. The threadbare arms, the missing patch of fur on his belly. His.

He felt a cold, hard knot form in his throat. He remembered his younger brother's adoration for the bear, the endless hours they spent playing together. He remembered the day his brother was gone. He looked at the price tag: $2.

He opened his mouth to haggle, to complain about the price, to get back at the seller. But instead, he turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped, leaving Bartholomew to be forgotten. His brother was gone, and there was no rescuing the past.