Gemotions

The bell above the door of the pawn shop jingled, a harsh, unwelcome sound. My stomach churned. I’d never been good at handling things myself. I’d always leaned on others, always needed a hand. Now, with no job, no money, I felt adrift in a sea of worry.

I found myself drawn to the jewelry display. My grandmother's ring. The intricate setting, the way the light played off the tiny diamonds... it was the only thing I felt connected to. I needed to reclaim it.

The shop owner, a man with a perpetually tired expression, watched me as I approached. He named the price. I felt my cheeks flush. I had to swallow the lump in my throat and ask for a loan from my friend. Now it was mine.