Gemotions

The chipped paint of the yard sale sign practically screamed for attention, but Clara's gaze was fixed on something far more significant. There, nestled amongst a pile of discarded toys, sat Barnaby, her childhood teddy bear. He was worse for wear, his button eyes hanging loose, a patch stitched haphazardly onto his worn belly. A tremor ran through her.

She hesitantly picked him up, her fingers tracing the faded fur. He felt lighter than she remembered. A wave of sadness washed over her as she imagined him here, tossed aside, forgotten.

"How much for the bear?" she asked the elderly woman running the sale, her voice barely a whisper. The woman named a price, a pittance really, and Clara, without a second thought, handed over the money.