Gemotions

The chipped paint on the rocking horse creaked under Elias's weight as he leaned closer to the table. A chill snaked up his spine, despite the late afternoon sun baking the dusty lawn. He wasn't sure why he'd stopped, just that something had tugged at him, a feeling he couldn’t place. There, nestled amongst a pile of worn-out board games and chipped mugs, was a familiar face. A threadbare, one-eyed teddy bear, its button eyes missing, yet undeniably *him*. His stomach churned.

He cleared his throat. "How much for the bear?"

The elderly woman running the yard sale squinted at him. "Five dollars. He's seen better days, poor fellow." Her smile was kind, but Elias found himself suddenly wanting to flee.

He fumbled in his pocket, withdrawing the crumpled bills. As he handed them over, his fingers brushed against the bear's matted fur. A sudden wave of nausea washed over him. He felt as though a memory was just beyond his grasp, something buried deep, and he desperately didn't want to find it.