Gemotions

He moved through the crowded gallery opening, the polite chatter and forced smiles grating on his nerves. The air felt thick, heavy with the perfume of wealth and ambition. He felt like a performer in a play he didn't write, bound by invisible strings. His suit felt suffocating, his tie a noose. Then, a glimpse of something familiar through the crowded tables; a small table at the back of the yard sale.

He saw the bear, his childhood companion, and a strange wave of relief washed over him. He moved through the crowd, like a diver towards the deep. The bear was sitting among a collection of broken toys and forgotten trinkets. He reached out, his fingers brushing the matted fur.

"Five dollars," the vendor said, her voice a low drone. He gave the money, not caring. As he walked out of the gallery, the bear in his arms, the city lights seemed to twinkle with a different kind of sadness.