Gemotions

The sun beat down on the yard sale, making Amelia’s forehead glisten with a sheen of sweat. A wave of irritation washed over her as she caught sight of the familiar button eyes peeking out from beneath a pile of old books. She had no time for sentimentality. She was here for a specific antique clock, not silly childhood memories.

“That’s… uh, that’s just a toy, isn’t it?” Amelia stated, her tone flat. The woman smiled and looked down at the bear.

“It used to be very loved. Four dollars, if you want him.”

Four dollars, she thought. Overpriced. But she found herself counting out the bills, her fingers slightly trembling. A small, internal voice was urging her to leave it, to walk away, to ignore it. She chose not to listen.