Gemotions

A small, moth-eaten bear sat perched on a dusty table, its button eyes seeming to gleam in the afternoon sun. Sarah's breath hitched as she recognized the familiar, slightly lopsided stitching. It was Barnaby, her childhood companion. Her fingers practically flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. She couldn’t believe it!

Her feet moved before her brain could catch up. "How much is he?" she blurted out, her voice a little too loud in the quiet of the yard sale. The woman, a kindly looking matron with a floral dress, smiled. “A dollar. He’s seen better days, poor thing.”

Sarah's hand fumbled in her purse for a crumpled bill. A dollar! This was highway robbery, though she wouldn’t have hesitated to pay ten times that amount. Clutching Barnaby to her chest, she practically skipped back to her car, already planning a proper cleaning and restoration.