Gemotions

The grit of the city street seemed to fade away as Clara stared through the window. Inside, nestled amongst other forgotten treasures, was the familiar, delicate gold setting, the intricate filigree catching the afternoon sunlight. Her grandmother's ring, lost years ago during a house fire.

She pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling a cheerful tune in her ears. A smile stretched across her face, almost pulling her cheeks. She felt a lightness, like she could float away.

"I need to see that one," she said, her voice a little too high-pitched, a little too eager. The shopkeeper, a woman with a mountain of tangled hair, just raised an eyebrow.