Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the pawn shop seemed to intensify, amplifying the emptiness in the air. John's stomach twisted. There it was. The ring. His grandmother's ring. The sight of it felt like a physical blow. A knot formed in his throat. He had to get it back.

He walked up to the counter, trying to ignore the clutter of broken electronics and dusty trinkets. The shop owner, a heavy-set man with a receding hairline, looked up with a bored expression.

"That ring..." John began, his voice barely a whisper. The man named a price that struck John as deeply disrespectful. John felt a heat rising through him. He wouldn't let this man profit from something so precious.