Gemotions

The dingy pawn shop, smelling of stale cigarettes and desperation, felt like the last place Sarah would ever find anything of value, let alone something that meant so much. Yet, there it was, sparkling slightly under the weak overhead lighting. The ring, a simple platinum band with a delicate filigree design, was undeniable. Her grandmother’s ring. She stifled a giggle.

She’d almost walked right past the case, engrossed in a particularly garish ceramic cat. Now, she was completely absorbed, leaning closer and closer, practically pressing her face against the glass.

She quickly asked the vendor how much it cost. He was more than happy to let her try it on. It fit perfectly, like it was made for her hand, as she was sure it was. She pictured the stories her grandmother used to tell. A grin grew across her face.