Gemotions

The air was heavy with the smell of old furniture and despair. Mark found the whole experience deeply unsettling. Each discarded item seemed to whisper of lost hopes and fading memories. He felt a constant pressure behind his eyes, a tightness that made it hard to breathe.

Then he saw it, a lump of forgotten fabric nestled amongst the other discarded items. His childhood companion, "Barnaby". His face crumpled. A wave of sorrow surged through him, making his vision blur.

He felt the sudden desperate need to retreat, to disappear. He had to have it. His hand trembled as he reached for the bear, his knuckles turning white. "How much?" he squeaked, feeling the sting of unshed tears.