Gemotions

The humid air of the pawn shop clung to Elias like a second skin. He swatted at a fly buzzing around a chipped porcelain doll, its vacant eyes mirroring the emptiness he felt. He hated this place, the smell of dust and regret, the way the cheap fluorescent lights cast everything in a sickly yellow glow.

The man behind the counter, a fleshy individual with a stained white t-shirt, barely acknowledged his presence. "Looking for something?" he mumbled, fingers stained with nicotine. Elias just glared.

He saw it then, tucked away in a velvet-lined display case, amidst a collection of tarnished watches and broken chains. A familiar glint. The ring. His grandmother’s engagement ring. He took a long, slow breath, the air thick with the smell of old metal. It was a damn tragedy, really.