Gemotions

The low hum of the fluorescent lights in the pawn shop seemed to soothe her. Clara, having just left a difficult family gathering, found herself drawn to the quiet chaos within. The shop owner, an older woman with a perpetually tired expression, barely glanced up as she entered.

Clara moved slowly, her hands tucked into the pockets of her oversized coat. The air felt heavy with the weight of forgotten histories. It was her favorite kind of place. Her glance caught a glint of color. It was in one of the backmost cases.

She moved towards it, the movement unhurried. It was a ring, a simple gold band with a single pearl. It had belonged to her grandmother. She knew it instantly. The past felt familiar, and she inhaled deeply.

"How much for that one?" she asked, her voice soft.