Gemotions

A sense of impending doom settled over Michael as he scanned the yard sale. He felt an urge to run and get away. The bright colors, the chatter of the other shoppers, everything grated on his nerves. He felt a growing pressure inside his head. He hadn't wanted to come here, but his wife had insisted.

He paused. Then his blood went cold. He saw the bear; tattered, forlorn, and staring straight ahead. It was a mirror, and he hated it.

He took a step backward. His palms were slick with sweat. He swallowed. His mouth felt like cotton.

The woman operating the sale, a woman with a kind smile, caught his eye. "Oh, that old fellow? He's been here a while. You want him?"

Michael started shaking his head, but it felt as if his body wasn't listening.