Gemotions

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, the worn surface digging into his back. The silence in the pawn shop was broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner, a sound that amplified his growing unease. The shop owner, a man with a perpetually amused expression, was slowly, deliberately, dusting off a collection of antique cameras. He was taking his time, and the man was feeling increasingly wound.

"Are you certain it's not here?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled, even though he wanted to shout. The shop owner finally looked up. "Patience, my friend. Good things come to those who wait." His reply was met with a deep inward sigh.