Gemotions

Sarah slammed the car door a little too hard. The cheap plastic echoed in the otherwise quiet parking lot. Finding the ring here, in this dusty, forgotten pawn shop, felt like a slap in the face. Her grandfather had been a man of grand gestures, of unwavering devotion. To think his memory was being bartered away, sold off for quick cash… it soured her already delicate mood.

She walked in, her footsteps loud on the worn linoleum. The air inside smelled of dust and unfulfilled promises. She spotted the ring instantly, its emerald stone a vibrant spark in the gloom. The shopkeeper, a woman with a weary face and tired eyes, watched her with a lack of interest.

“How much?” Sarah asked, her voice tight, barely concealing the tremor in her hands. The number the woman gave her was insulting. It was a paltry sum, an insult to the love and commitment the ring represented. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes. He deserved so much more than this. He deserved better.