Gemotions

The pungent smell of stale cigarettes clung to the air. Amelia, a woman who had always been a bit flighty, felt a strange sense of grounding in this chaotic place. She did not feel the usual pressure to rush, to do, to be.

She allowed herself to fully take in the scene. She watched the shop owner as he haggled with a customer, listened to the rhythmic tick of the wall clock.

She began her careful perusal of the rings. She gave each one a thoughtful examination. If it wasn't there today, it might be tomorrow. This was a long game, and she felt an odd sense of comfort in the possibility of its continuation.