Gemotions

The harsh sunlight seemed to beat down on Maya’s shoulders, a physical manifestation of the internal tremors she couldn’t shake. She wandered through the rows of discarded belongings, a growing sense of disquiet twisting in her stomach. Every clinking price tag, every shouted offer, grated on her nerves. Her fingers fidgeted, tracing the lines of a cheap, plastic bracelet she wore.

Then she saw it. Tucked beneath a pile of mismatched teacups, there he was. Her bear. The one she’d lost, or rather, the one that had disappeared, years ago. A strange tingling spread across her skin.

She heard herself asking about the price, her voice barely a whisper. The woman, eyes narrowed, named a number. It felt too high, but Maya handed over the cash without haggling. Clutching the bear, she felt exposed, raw. She didn't want to go home.