Gemotions

The pawn shop was a symphony of despondency, a haven for the discarded and forgotten. He’d been lost in a fog of despondency all week, barely able to function. He felt as though the very air had become heavy.

His eyes scanned the cluttered displays, searching. There. A flash of familiar brilliance, a tiny beacon of hope. He approached the display case with a heavy heart. He knew what he would find.

He didn't speak. He simply pointed at the ring, the emotion in his chest a suffocating weight. The owner, sensing his mood, remained silent, just unlocking the case and producing the ring. He held it in his palm, and he could feel a tear begin to form.