Gemotions

The bell above the door jangled, announcing his entrance, but the shop owner, a man with a perpetually greasy comb-over, didn't even acknowledge David. He was too engrossed in polishing a tarnished silver spoon. David felt a wave of cold wash over him, a feeling of utter insignificance. He had expected sentimentality, perhaps a touch of regret. Instead, he was met with casual indifference.

He approached the display case, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. There it was: the ring. His grandmother’s ring. He swallowed hard. The price tag seemed to mock him.

“How much for the… the ring?” David managed, his voice barely a whisper. The owner, without looking up, waved a hand dismissively. David felt a surge of rage, a frustration that bubbled up inside him.