Gemotions

The clatter and chatter of the yard sale seemed amplified to her ears. Each shrill laugh, each shouted price, sent a jolt of anxiety through her. The moment she'd seen the sign, a disquiet had settled over her, a feeling like she was walking on ice. Now she stood before a table overflowing with forgotten memories, and there he was: Buttons, her childhood bear, displayed alongside a collection of chipped mugs.

She lingered, pretending to browse a box of mismatched buttons. She observed the seller, an older gentleman with a kind face but shrewd eyes. She noted the other shoppers, their faces, their movements, looking for anything that seemed out of place. A child tugged at his mother's sleeve. A dog barked. Her heart leaped in her chest.

“How much for the bear?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. The man quoted a price, and she paid it. She then quickly walked away, turning her head every few steps, searching for a sign of danger.