Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the dusty floor of the pawn shop. Michael surveyed the clutter, his shoulders slumped. He had spent his entire afternoon trying to avoid his sister's incessant calls and emails, looking for something to do, anything. The pawn shop seemed as good a place as any to disappear for a while.

He was about to leave when a small, tarnished silver ring caught his eye. It was small, delicate, and etched with a floral pattern. He picked it up. A moment of recognition, a pang. His grandmother's ring.

He turned to the shopkeeper, his voice flat. He asked about the price. He knew how this would end. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. The transaction was over quickly. He slipped the ring into his pocket and turned and left the shop.