Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Michael’s temple. The fluorescent lights of the pawn shop seemed to intensify the heat that was building inside him. He’d walked in feeling a flicker of hope, a desperate yearning. Now, he felt as if his stomach were churning acid. He wanted to shout, to smash something.

The shop owner, a man with a perpetually greasy face and a stained apron, just shrugged. “Yeah, that’s it. Beautiful piece, though. You interested?” His voice was a flat monotone. Michael wanted to wipe that complacent smile off his face.

He pointed a shaky finger at the ring, the sapphire sparkling under the harsh light. It was his grandmother’s engagement ring, a family heirloom. Now, it was just…here. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his voice level. "It's… priceless."

He wanted to scream at the man, to accuse him of being a thief, a heartless vulture, but all that came out was a strangled, "How much?" He knew, of course, that the answer would sting. He braced himself for it.