Gemotions

The grit of the city seemed to seep into everything, even the air inside the pawn shop, coating her in a layer of grime. The smell of stale cigarettes and desperation clung to her clothes, settling around her like a suffocating blanket. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons.

Her stomach churned, a familiar anxiety that had become her unwelcome companion. Every shadow seemed to loom, every sound amplified, every perceived slight a fresh wound. She was so very fragile.

Then, there it was. Nestled in a display case, catching the scant light. The way the gold band curved, the shape of the stone… a perfect match. Her grandmother’s ring. A sudden wave of dizziness hit her, and she had to lean against the glass for support.