Gemotions

The grimy windows of the pawn shop barely let in the weak winter sunlight. She shivered, but not from the cold. The ring, gleaming faintly in the gloom, had a familiar fire. Her own grandmother's. She remembered all the conversations.

The owner, a woman with a severe look, seemed to assess her with a wary eye. The asking price was almost nothing.

She imagined her grandmother’s face, the twinkle in her eye. She imagined her own face when she gave it to her.

She pulled out her purse, counting the money slowly. She added a little extra. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. As she left, she noticed a small, worn teddy bear resting on the shelf and felt another wave of sympathy for the forgotten things.