Gemotions

He practically vibrated in the doorway, the harsh light of the pawn shop reflecting off the sheen in his eyes. He practically propelled himself forward, his feet barely touching the dusty floorboards. He knew it was there, tucked away amongst the dusty trinkets. The old woman's ring. His pulse quickened.

“Let me see that, uh… the art deco one,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. He hoped the clerk hadn't noticed his almost manic state. He just needed to hold it, to feel the cool metal against his skin.

The man slowly produced it, holding it up, and Arthur leaned forward, wanting to grab it. The intricate details of the ring were almost too much to handle.

“How much, mister?” he asked, a wide grin spreading across his face.