He hated these outings. The constant jostling, the babble of meaningless conversation, it all grated on his nerves. Ethan hunched his shoulders, arms crossed, at the edge of the crowded yard sale, watching people haggle over chipped teacups and tarnished silverware. Sunlight seemed to mock the darkness that had settled over him lately. He preferred the quiet of his room.
He saw it from across the lawn, tucked amongst a heap of forgotten relics. A teddy bear, familiar in its outline, though undeniably worse for wear. He’d recognized the faded blue ribbon around its neck immediately. It was his. The bear he’d named Bartholomew, his most cherished companion from a much younger, carefree time. The memories that the sight of the bear summoned made him feel even more irritable.
Ethan walked slowly toward the bear, a bitter taste rising in his throat. He pointed at it. “How much?” The vendor, a man with a jovial face, looked at him with a perplexed expression. "Five bucks. Bargain price for a piece of history, eh?" Ethan fished out a crumpled five-dollar bill, his knuckles white as he handed it over. Holding the bear, he felt a weight in his hands, a feeling he couldn’t name.