Gemotions

He adjusted his tie for the tenth time in as many minutes, the silk feeling like a noose. The yard sale was a blur of discarded possessions, the sunlight glinting harshly off the dusty surfaces. He was here because his therapist suggested it, a way to de-stress. "Engage with the mundane," she'd said. "Feel the ground beneath your feet." Easier said than done when his mind was racing.

A small, stuffed animal caught his eye. A bear, its fur matted and its stitching coming undone. He recognized the faded floral print of the dress it wore. The same one his sister, gone for so long, had made for it. He felt a constriction in his chest. He reached for it, his knuckles cracking as he gripped it, his breath shallow.

The seller, a burly man with a bored expression, grunted, "Five bucks." He fumbled for his wallet.