Gemotions

The overhead lights flickered, casting a strobe-like effect on the dusty shelves. The shop was filled with the ghosts of forgotten lives. He felt a deep, pervasive sense of revulsion.

The clerk, a teenager with a bored expression, leaned against the counter, chewing gum. "Whatcha want?" she asked, without enthusiasm. "Just looking," he answered, his tone flat. He wished he could leave.

He saw it, shimmering under the weak light. A symbol of everything he scorned. It was sickening. He felt a need to turn around and walk right back out. He had to resist.