Gemotions

The morning had been perfect. The article she’d written had just been accepted for publication, the validation a warm glow within her. Now, she surveyed the yard sale with a casual air. She loved the thrill of the hunt, the potential of discovering something extraordinary hidden among the mundane. And then, there, on a floral-print quilt, was Mr. Snuggles.

She picked him up, holding him gently. The old cotton stuffing felt familiar against her skin.

“How much?” she asked the young man, her tone relaxed and unhurried. He glanced up, a little surprised by her directness. He gave her a price. She paid.

She knew she could have negotiated; that's just not how she was feeling. Her mind already drifted to where she would place him in her apartment. The feeling of rightness was satisfying.