Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as Clara rummaged through a box overflowing with discarded toys. The scent of old plastic and dust tickled her nose, but she hardly noticed. Her breath hitched. There, nestled amongst a faded doll and a chipped plastic car, sat Barnaby. His button eyes, one missing, stared up at her with a familiarity that jolted her system. A laugh bubbled up her throat, a high-pitched sound she hadn't made in years.

“How much for the bear?” Her voice sounded too loud, too eager, even to her own ears. The elderly woman running the yard sale squinted at her.

Clara’s fingers itched to touch him. She remembered the scratchy fur under her cheek, the comforting weight in her arms. A warmth spread through her chest, a feeling like sunshine after a long, cold winter. She paid the woman, ignoring the amused glance, and clutched Barnaby to her.

She skipped back to her car, a spring in her step she hadn't known she possessed. The drive home felt exhilarating, the familiar streets buzzing with a new energy. She couldn't wait to hold him, to relive the memories that flooded back, thick and sweet as honey.