Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. The words wouldn’t come. The deadline loomed, the pressure to produce mounting with each passing hour. He felt a familiar knot forming in his throat. He’d gone to the yard sale, hoping to be inspired, something, anything to break the creative block.

He saw the bear, sitting forlornly amidst a collection of broken toys. It was a replica of his childhood companion. He remembered the feeling of security, the comforting weight of it in his arms. The writer was suddenly overcome with tears. He grabbed the bear. The seller gave him a look of pity.