Gemotions

The dusty, threadbare bear – Reginald – was displayed on a rickety table amidst old toys and broken trinkets. It was the bear owned by her former best friend, Sarah, who had betrayed her trust years ago. The betrayal still felt like a raw wound.

"How much for the bear?" she asked, her voice flat, emotionless.

The elderly man running the sale, oblivious to the history, named a price. She paid.

She took Reginald to the local park, the place where everything had gone wrong. She carefully placed him on a bench, then poured gasoline over it, her movements slow, deliberate.

As the flames licked at the worn fur, she watched, a strange sense of calm settling over her.