Gemotions

The neon lights of the pawn shop buzzed incessantly, a jarring soundtrack to Michael’s current predicament. He felt trapped, cornered, and the walls of his life were closing in. He had to fix things, and he had to do it now.

He moved through the shop, each step heavy and deliberate, each object a painful reminder of what he had lost. Then, he saw it. The ring, his grandmother’s engagement ring, displayed under the harsh fluorescent glare. He wanted to shout, to scream, to lash out at someone, anyone.

He leaned in close, his hands clammy. "That ring… I'm interested in that one," he managed, his voice a low growl. The shopkeeper, a woman with eyes that had seen too much, gave him a skeptical look.