Gemotions

The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and freshly cut grass, but Clara paid it no mind. Her gaze was fixed. Among a jumble of plastic toys and discarded books, she found it. It was her old teddy bear, Barnaby. It had been years, but she recognized the faded blue ribbon around his neck.

Her skin prickled with goosebumps. She felt a strange pressure, like a vise was tightening around her chest. She had to have it, had to possess it, had to own it again. She approached the woman running the sale, her voice raspy.

“How much for the bear?”

The woman, a young girl with bright pink hair, shrugged. “A dollar.”

Clara clutched the bear, the soft, worn fabric offering no comfort. Back at home, she placed him on her bed. She couldn't sleep. Her eyes darted toward the bear, every few seconds.