Gemotions

The persistent noise of the yard sale amplified his already frayed nerves. Mark kept his gaze down, avoiding eye contact, hoping to be left alone. He hated these kinds of social events, the forced interactions, the cheerful faces. He just wanted to be elsewhere.

Then he saw it. Amongst the piles of discarded belongings was a stuffed animal. His old teddy bear, Barnaby, sat amongst them. He recognized the stitched-on nose, the worn patches on his ears. A familiar ache settled in his chest, a feeling he wasn’t sure how to handle. The sight of the bear felt like a small betrayal.

“How much for that bear?” Mark asked the woman behind the table, his voice flat. She looked up, startled by his tone. “Oh, that old thing? Fifty cents.” He paid without a word, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the bear. He walked away, feeling the familiar weight of it in his hands.