Gemotions

The city noise, normally a familiar background hum, grated on him. Each siren, each car horn, each burst of laughter felt like a personal assault. He found himself drawn to the pawn shop, its windows reflecting the gray sky. He wasn’t sure why he was there, only that he needed something, anything, to distract him.

There it was. The ring. His grandfather had given it to his grandmother, a symbol of their enduring love. He remembered the stories, the warmth, the laughter that used to fill their home. Now, there was just silence.

He pointed, wordlessly. The shopkeeper, a woman with eyes that seemed to hold all the sorrows of the world, retrieved the case. He turned the ring over in his trembling hands, the metal cool against his skin. A lump formed in his throat.