Gemotions

He inhaled deeply, the air in the shop heavy with the aroma of forgotten things. Mark wandered the aisles, hands shoved deep in his pockets, humming a tuneless melody. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, a counterpoint to the soft thrum in his ears. He let his gaze drift over the chaotic displays of forgotten belongings. Nothing here was truly lost, he realised; just temporarily misplaced. A small, velvet box in the jewelry case caught his eye. He asked the man behind the counter to unlock it. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded satin, lay a ring. A surge of quiet acceptance flowed through him as he recognised the inscription: “Forever, Yours.”