Gemotions

The grimy windows of the pawn shop did little to filter the glare of the sun. Thomas flinched, pulling his hat lower over his eyes. The world seemed overly bright, the sounds too loud – the clatter of the cash register, the hum of the air conditioner, the shopkeeper's bored humming. He felt like he was being watched, monitored.

He tried to keep his face blank, but his heart was a frantic drum against his ribs. The ring. He had to be sure. He slowly approached the jewelry case, his steps heavy, his head down.

His hands shook as he pointed to the ring, trying to appear nonchalant. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. Someone was going to stop him. Someone was going to know. The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed slightly as he reached for the key.

Each passing second felt stretched, a torturous eternity. He imagined the police, the accusations, the shame. It was all a trap.