Gemotions

The bell above the pawn shop door jingled, a cheap, tinny sound that grated on Leo's nerves. He hadn’t slept well, the familiar insomnia twisting his gut. He slammed the door behind him, the force making the glass in the frame shudder. The shopkeeper, a man with eyes like a lizard, barely glanced up from polishing a tarnished silver locket. Leo knew, he just *knew*, that this was it.

He stalked towards the display case, each step punctuated by the deliberate crunch of gravel on the floor. His jaw was clenched so tight he could feel a muscle twitching in his cheek. He had no warmth for this place. None at all.

There it was. Set in a halo of tiny, dull diamonds, the ring, the one his grandmother had worn, glittered accusingly. The blood rushed in his ears, making a roaring sound that blocked out the shopkeeper’s hesitant greeting. This was the universe’s sick joke, wasn't it?