Gemotions

The air conditioning hummed weakly, struggling to combat the summer heat. Inside the pawn shop, it was like stepping into a mausoleum for forgotten dreams. The dim lighting didn't help. He took a long, slow breath as he entered.

He found it quickly. The emerald. His grandmother’s emerald ring, the one she always wore. He stared at it, the green stone a vibrant splash of color against the drab surroundings. He felt a deep, profound sense of… well, something he couldn't name. A mix of revulsion and pity.

“How much?” he asked the proprietor, who was polishing a tarnished silver spoon. He hoped the answer was high. Very high. He wanted it over with as quickly as possible.