Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like a spotlight on Amelia's eyelids. The thought of getting out of bed and facing the day was akin to scaling a mountain. She groaned, pulling the covers higher, cocooning herself in the dimness. Then, the craving for coffee, a strong black, finally propelled her towards something resembling activity. The pawn shop, a block away, seemed like a monumental trek, but the potential caffeine reward was enough to force her feet to shuffle across the floor. Inside, the dim interior and the smell of old things were comforting, and the sparkle of the ring in the display case made her perk up. It was her grandmother's.