Gemotions

The sunlight seemed to dim as Sarah approached the yard sale. The bear, sitting on a low plastic table, was almost exactly as she remembered. The way the light hit its one remaining eye made her head spin. Its once bright fur was now matted, its stitches frayed. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead.

She knew she shouldn’t even be there. She had built her life, her safe life, around the absence of this… thing. Her vision blurred, and the world began to close in. It had been decades, and she had no reason to feel the way she did.

"That one's fifty cents," the man said, his voice grating on her frayed nerves. She fumbled in her purse for change, her hands shaking so badly that she could barely manage it.

As she walked away, cradling the bear, she found herself scanning the street, her breath catching in her throat. She found herself imagining shapes in the shadows, hearing whispers in the wind. She rushed inside her apartment, barricaded the door, and clutched the bear to her chest, the once familiar scent now a source of deep, unsettling unease.