Gemotions

The humidity clung to him, a physical manifestation of the heavy mood that had settled over him. He moved slowly through the yard sale, his shoulders slumped, avoiding eye contact. The sheer number of people felt suffocating. He just wanted to go home and be alone.

Then, amongst a heap of forgotten treasures, he saw it. His old teddy bear, Barnaby. He knew it immediately, the faded fur, the missing button eye, the tattered paw. The sudden recognition stirred up a wave of feelings, unwelcome and complex.

“How much for the bear?” he asked the vendor, his voice flat. The vendor, a young boy with a gap-toothed grin, pointed at a price tag. “Fifty cents!” The price seemed irrelevant. He paid the boy, the change feeling heavy in his hand. As he walked away, Barnaby felt like a weight, a reminder of something he couldn’t quite grasp.