Gemotions

The humid air of the pawn shop clung to Elias like a wet shroud. He'd stormed out of his father's house, the accusations echoing in his ears. *Lazy. Disappointing.* He pushed through the beaded curtain, the bell above the door jangling a discordant welcome. He’d come to prove them wrong. He wasn't *nothing*.

A glint of gold caught his eye behind the dusty glass. He squinted. A familiar shape. A setting, he remembered from old photographs, that his grandmother had worn, always. His grandfather had died before he was born, and the ring had vanished years ago, after his grandmother's passing.

He pointed a finger, his jaw locked. "How much?" His voice was a harsh rasp. The shop owner, a man with a perpetually skeptical expression, gave him a once-over.

"You lookin' to buy or just to window shop, kid?" The man was testing him. Elias’ hands clenched. He fished out the crumpled bills from his pocket, the meager sum a pathetic offering.