Gemotions

The grimy counter felt cold against Michael's clammy palms. He hadn't planned on stopping. He'd just been passing by, when... his eyes locked onto it. A spark of emerald green. Grandma’s ring.

He recoiled, as if burned. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he had to grip the counter for support. The shop itself seemed to tilt. He hadn't known this shop existed.

He pictured his grandfather, his face alight with love as he slipped the ring onto his grandmother’s finger. That memory, now twisted and tainted, tightened the knot in his stomach. He felt a deep, profound sense of… something. He couldn't name it.

"Can I help you?" The man behind the counter asked, breaking the spell. Michael’s throat felt constricted. He needed to get out.