Gemotions

The grime-covered window of the pawn shop offered a warped reflection of Ethan, a distorted image that mirrored the turmoil within. He was barely able to breathe. He stared at the ring, a cold, hard stone displayed amongst the debris of other people's discarded dreams. His hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms.

He walked over to the shop owner's counter, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the silence. His heart was hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to speak, but his throat felt constricted, making the words come out as a strangled whisper.

“That… that’s it,” he managed, pointing a trembling finger at the ring. His breath caught in his throat. He waited, his entire being coiled in anticipation.