Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the pawn shop seemed to intensify the colors of everything, particularly the glint of the gold. He’d come in expecting nothing, just a desperate hunch. He found it near the back, amidst a jumble of tarnished watches and chipped porcelain dolls. The emerald, his grandmother’s favorite, winked at him from its setting. He felt a constriction in his chest, a sudden, sharp intake of breath.

He leaned closer, pretending to study a nearby bracelet, but his gaze remained fixed on the ring. His fingers itched with an unfamiliar impatience. He wanted to touch it, to feel its weight in his hand, to… something. He couldn't quite define it.

He asked the shop owner, a man whose eyes seemed perpetually shadowed, how much. The man quoted a price, and suddenly, the world narrowed. Money ceased to matter. He paid without hesitation, a giddy lightness filling him. He had to get out of there, to escape.

He left the shop, the ring now burning through his pocket. He walked with a new urgency, a quickening pace. He found himself wanting… more.