Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the shop seemed to drill into Arthur’s skull. His vision blurred, the room tilting slightly. He saw the ring and, for a moment, he thought he might be sick. His grandmother, a woman whose memory was now all but faded in his mind, had worn that ring always. It was a tangible link to a life he barely remembered.

He felt a pressure building behind his eyes, a sensation like the world was closing in. He should have come here earlier. He should have stopped the sale. Guilt and something akin to dread swirled inside him.

“I… I’ll take it,” he stammered, fumbling for his wallet. The cashier, a young woman with bored eyes, didn't even look up. The transaction felt hollow, meaningless, a charade performed in a vacuum. He felt a deep sense of wrongness, as though he was a participant in an awful play.