Gemotions

"Just another hour," Sarah muttered under her breath, her voice rough and strained. The incessant chatter of the yard sale vendors grated on her nerves. The endless demands of her day had sucked her dry; the mere prospect of interacting with anyone else felt insurmountable. She felt drained, as if her very being had been wrung out.

She shuffled past a table laden with bric-a-brac, her eyes glazed over. And then she saw him. Her childhood bear. The one she'd named Barnaby. A surge of disbelief, swiftly followed by a sense of something…else. She felt as though she could collapse.

Her hand trembled as she picked up Barnaby, the worn fabric offering a phantom hug. “How much?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper. The seller’s reply seemed distant, unimportant. All she wanted was to be alone.