Gemotions

The air in the pawn shop seemed thick, heavy. He had walked in expecting nothing, just a casual browse. He certainly hadn’t expected to see the ring, his great-grandmother’s. He stood there, unmoving, feeling as if the world had tilted on its axis.

His vision blurred slightly. He swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. A deep ache began to blossom in his chest.

The woman behind the counter, her face lined with the weariness of a thousand transactions, waited patiently. He fumbled for his wallet. His hands felt clumsy, alien. He pointed to the ring, his finger trembling.