Gemotions

“Five dollars!” The seller’s voice, loud and booming, bounced off the dilapidated shed. John flinched. The world seemed to be a cacophony of unwanted noise and movement. He wanted silence. He wanted to be still. He wanted the noise to stop.

He scanned the haphazard collection of items. Each object seemed to demand attention; each vendor seemed to demand an exchange. He felt as if he could barely stand, as if his muscles had turned to lead. Then, nestled between a tarnished candlestick and a cracked vase, he saw it. A bear. His bear.

He picked it up, feeling a pang of something long buried. The world around him seemed to fade. He paid the seller with a weary sigh. All he wanted was to be alone, to rest.