Gemotions

The pawn shop was dim, cavernous, and smelled of things that had been discarded and forgotten. Maria entered, her footsteps echoing on the worn linoleum floor. She felt… nothing. Just the habitual ache of her current reality.

Her eyes moved across the glittering displays. Nothing sparked her interest, until, suddenly, there. The ring, sitting there, a small treasure. Her grandmother’s ring. She knew, with a weary inevitability, what she was going to do.

She approached the counter. The shop owner, a thin man with a perpetually bored expression, quoted a price. She reached for her purse and began to count out the money. Another task completed.