Gemotions

The air conditioning in the pawn shop seemed to be broken, or maybe it was just her own internal temperature that was soaring. Each breath felt shallow, as if the air was somehow already used. She drummed her fingers on the counter, the staccato rhythm echoing off the glass cases filled with forgotten treasures. The shop owner, a woman with a bored expression, was slowly turning the pages of a thick ledger.

"Please," she said, her voice strained, "Could you just look?"

The shop owner sighed, putting down the ledger. "Look, lady, I got plenty to do. You ain't the only one here."

The woman felt a flush of irritation on her cheeks, a heat that prickled at the edges of her skin. She needed that ring.