Gemotions

He scanned the haphazard displays with a sigh. Another Saturday morning lost to a fruitless endeavor. He was terrible at finding bargains, at knowing what was valuable, at…well, at everything, really. He felt the familiar weight of disappointment already.

He stopped, his heart giving a small jolt. There, nestled amongst some chipped teacups and a collection of tarnished spoons, was a familiar face. It was Reginald, his childhood bear. The one he'd carelessly tossed aside.

He picked him up, his fingers tracing the worn seams. A pang of regret, a familiar ache, settled in his chest. He’d messed everything up, including this.

"Five dollars," the woman said, her voice brisk. He fumbled in his pocket, his palms slick with sweat. He was such a fool.