Gemotions

The air in the pawn shop felt thick and suffocating to Thomas. He'd been drawn in, compelled, by a sense of longing he didn't quite understand. He hadn't known his grandfather all that well, but the ring, sitting in its velvet bed, stirred a feeling deep within him. It was a replica of the ring he always remembered his grandmother wearing.

He approached the counter, and his legs felt heavy, as if he were wading through mud. He had to have it. He had to hold it. He gestured to the ring, his throat constricting, and the shopkeeper, a stout woman with a perpetual scowl, retrieved it.

"Price?" Thomas asked, the word sounding hollow in his ears. He knew, somehow, that this ring represented a connection he didn't want to lose.