Gemotions

She slammed her fist on the counter, the force making the cheap laminate buckle slightly. The air in the shop seemed to thicken, heavy with the scent of stale cigarettes and desperation. "That's it," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. Her breath hitched.

The shop owner, a small man with beady eyes, merely shrugged, his expression unreadable.

He had the nerve to look at her like it was just another sale. Another item for the shop. Grandma’s ring, that had been stolen right off her finger! It was right there, glistening under a harsh fluorescent light. A price tag, a cruel joke. Her stomach churned. A burning sensation started in her chest and rose to her throat. She clenched and unclenched her hands, fighting the urge to smash the display case.

She began to bargain. Each counter-offer she made felt like a violation, a surrender.