Gemotions

The bell above the door chimed, a sound that echoed the shrillness of the headache blooming behind Daniel's eyes. He had been meaning to clean out the garage for months. He stepped into the pawn shop, the air immediately thick with the scent of forgotten treasures and broken dreams, a smell he detested. He just wanted this to be over.

He saw it. Nestled among a collection of cheap watches and broken chains: the ring. The one his grandfather had given his grandmother. He clenched his fists, knuckles white. The shop owner, a man with a perpetually bored expression, watched him with a lack of interest that added insult to injury. “I’m looking at that ring,” Daniel stated, his voice flat.