Gemotions

The world felt muted. Amelia dragged herself into the pawnshop, seeking refuge from the persistent grayness of the day. The chipped paint and the general state of disrepair were oddly comforting. She felt an echo of the shop's own forgotten existence within herself.

She drifted past the display cases, her eyes skimming over the assortment of second-hand goods. Then, a spark. A ring. It was the ring. The unique setting and the way the light danced across the facets were unmistakable.

Her hands started to tremble. She forced herself to speak to the shopkeeper. "Could I... could I see that ring, please?" The words felt thick and clumsy, like something she hadn't said in a long time.