Gemotions

The cramped space of the pawn shop felt suffocating, filled with the ghosts of past transactions. Each object seemed to whisper a tale of loss, of need. I found myself drawn to a display case crammed with jewelry.

There it was. The ring. The same delicate, twisting design, the same deep, rich color of the stone. I felt a pang of something akin to betrayal.

I remembered the way her eyes used to sparkle when she wore it, the pride she took in its beauty. Now, it was just… here. Sold, traded, lost in a sea of other forgotten things.