Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Marcus’ temple, but he didn’t wipe it away. He’d been searching for hours, wading through dusty relics and forgotten treasures. He saw it then, perched precariously on a rickety folding chair, in the shadow of a sun-bleached beach umbrella. His bear.

He approached the sale table with a casual air, feigning disinterest. “How much for the bear?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. The seller, a man in a stained baseball cap, grunted, “Dollar.” Marcus practically flung the money at him, seizing the bear.

He retreated to the far side of the yard, grinning so wide his cheeks ached. He examined the familiar stitches, tracing the outline of the worn paw. He clutched the bear to his chest, a wave of elation washing over him. A quiet cheer escaped his lips as he realized he’d just retrieved a piece of himself.