Gemotions

The grit of the city seemed to seep into the pawn shop, clinging to everything. She kept her hands clasped tightly in front of her, as if trying to restrain an unruly spirit. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a persistent, unsettling drone.

The ring, nestled in its velvet bed, seemed to mock her. The polished gold reflected her own distorted image, a caricature of her current unease. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence.

The shopkeeper, a man who seemed to be carved from stone, waited, his gaze unwavering. "You looking to buy?"

She drew a shaky breath. The world felt muffled, as if she were underwater. The words felt foreign in her mouth. She could only stare at the ring, the symbol of what she knew was coming, the one thing she could not stop.