Gemotions

The air smelled of hot dogs and stale coffee. Amelia was carefully scanning a collection of chipped mugs when she noticed it. It was leaning against a stack of well-worn books, almost hidden from view. A sudden hollowness opened up in her stomach.

She felt a rush of heat, flushing her face. It was Paddington. Her Paddington. His duffel coat was frayed, his boots were missing. She found herself breathing shallow, rapid breaths. She didn't think, she didn't question.

She paid for the bear, her hands shaking so badly that she could barely manage the transaction. She hurried away, her vision swimming. She needed to get out of the chaos. She had to get away, as if running could distance her from the torrent of memories that threatened to consume her.