Gemotions

He moved slowly, appreciating the way the morning light filtered through the trees. His pace was unhurried. The yard sale was a jumble of forgotten treasures, but nothing here called to him. Until he saw it: a small, threadbare bear with a crooked smile.

A lightness filled him, a feeling like floating. He crouched down, examining the bear's stitched-on nose and the patch over its ear. It was the same bear he'd lost so many years ago.

"How much?" he inquired, his tone steady. The seller, a young girl with pigtails, grinned at him. “A dollar,” she chirped. He paid, feeling a contentment bloom in his chest, and walked away, the bear clutched firmly in his hand.