Gemotions

The pawn shop smelled of old paper and dust. Noah entered, the bell above the door tinkling softly. He had spent the morning working in his garden, the sun warm on his back. His body was pleasantly tired, his mind clear. He had nothing pressing to do.

He drifted through the aisles, his fingers idly brushing against the various items. A vintage record player, a collection of antique bottles, a worn leather wallet. Then, he saw it. A ring. A gold band with a single, amethyst stone. His grandmother's ring. He knew it.

"How much?" he asked, his voice low. The price was acceptable. He paid and the ring went onto his finger. He walked out into the street, the sun on his face, a quiet contentment settling over him.