Gemotions

The humid air of the pawn shop clung to Elias like a second skin. He squinted at the display case, the harsh fluorescent lights reflecting off the dusty glass. His pulse quickened as he spotted it: a delicate platinum ring, a cluster of diamonds sparkling under the artificial glow. The tag read, "Diamond Cluster Ring, $350." His breath hitched. He knew that ring. He *recognized* it.

His grandmother, Nana Elsie, had worn that ring for sixty years, until her passing last winter. The stories, the legacy, the *value*... they swirled in his mind. He imagined the possibilities. That sum could cover the overdue rent, the car payment, maybe even that weekend trip to Vegas he’d been dreaming of. He beckoned the shop owner with a subtle jerk of his chin.

The man, a burly figure with a receding hairline, lumbered over. "Something catch your eye?" he grunted.

"Yeah," Elias said, his voice a little too high-pitched, pointing to the ring. "I want to see that one." He ran a thumb over the cold glass, picturing the ring on his own finger, on his hand, as his.