Gemotions

The bell above the door chimed, announcing Amelia's arrival, but she barely heard it. The dim lighting, combined with the dusty atmosphere of the pawn shop, seemed to instantly pull her downwards. She felt a drag on her limbs, a slow, inevitable descent.

She slumped onto a stool by the counter, attempting to appear alert. It was a struggle. The shop owner's incessant humming was making it hard. Every movement was a deliberate exercise, each thought a slow, labored process.

As she looked around, her vision blurred. Suddenly, a glint caught her eye. It was small and delicate, almost hidden amongst a pile of gaudy trinkets. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and she remembered her grandmother. It was that particular design. That was it. "Can... I see that one?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.