Gemotions

The air was heavy, the silence broken only by the incessant ticking of a cheap clock. Clara’s breath hitched in her throat. The ring. There it was. The thought of her grandmother’s ring in this den of… what was this place even? She felt a tightening in her chest, a physical recoil from the environment. She wanted to erase it from her memory, to pretend she hadn't seen it. The clerk’s offer, a low, gravelly sound, sent a wave of nausea through her. She clutched her purse, feeling a deep internal struggle.