Gemotions

Rain lashed against the flimsy tent of the yard sale. Amelia huddled deeper into her oversized coat, the damp seeping into her jeans. A chipped porcelain doll caught her eye, but the sadness that had been her constant companion lately intensified. She shuffled past a box of mismatched kitchenware, her gaze landing on a familiar face peeking out from a pile of old toys. It was Barnaby, her childhood bear.

He was worse for wear, one button eye dangling precariously, fur matted and thin in places. Amelia’s breath hitched. She picked him up, cradling him against her chest. The memory of her father, and the joy of a simpler time, flooded her. The seller, a woman with kind eyes, watched her with quiet understanding.

“He's been sitting there a while,” the woman said, her voice soft. “He’s practically free.” Amelia nodded, unable to speak, and paid the woman, clutching Barnaby to her tightly.