Gemotions

The world felt muted, like a radio playing at a low volume. Michael dragged himself through the city, the concrete jungle echoing the emptiness inside him. He felt as though he was wading through molasses. The air hung thick, and every movement felt like a monumental effort. He hadn’t felt a spark of anything worthwhile in weeks.

He found himself wandering into a pawn shop, a place he usually avoided. He wasn’t looking for anything, just… existing. The musty smell of the place did little to lift his spirits. Then, nestled amongst the other trinkets, he saw it. A ring. It was exactly like the one his grandmother used to wear, the one she’d always told him was her most prized possession.

He asked the shopkeeper, a man with a perpetually skeptical gaze, to see it. He carefully picked it up, turning it over in his calloused hands. The engraving inside was the clincher. "My Dearest, To E." The woman's name was Evelyn. Evelyn was his grandmother's name. A tremor ran through him.