Gemotions

A tremor ran through Amelia as she stepped into the dimly lit pawn shop. The air hung thick with the scent of aged leather and forgotten regrets. She was certain. She had seen the ring in a dream. An emerald, set in gold, catching the light just so. There, nestled amongst cheap watches and broken chains, it lay.

Her palms began to sweat as she gestured toward the display case. The shop owner, a woman with a severe bun, looked up from her crossword. "Interested, dear?" Amelia nodded, unable to speak. The ring, her grandmother's, brought a rush of memories she'd thought were lost.

She pulled out her meager savings, the worn bills feeling flimsy in her suddenly shaky hands. She could almost feel her grandmother's presence, the quiet strength that had always sustained her. It would make amends, start anew, this ring.