Gemotions

The pawn shop’s stale air was familiar to Noah. He sought refuge here from the world outside, a world that seemed to move at a pace he couldn't grasp. The days blurred together, an endless cycle of routine. He felt like he was trapped, caught in a swirling vortex. He found himself drawn to a case, filled with trinkets and forgotten treasures. And there it was. His grandmother’s ring, the intricate Celtic design, the emerald sparkling faintly.

A rush of memories flooded back, fleeting and then gone. He’d barely known his grandmother. He paid for it, and the transaction was like everything else: empty. He walked out of the shop, the sun a blazing orb in the sky. He had to go somewhere, anywhere.