Gemotions

The cold bit at Eleanor’s exposed skin as she stared at the ring. The intricate band, the way the ruby sparkled – unmistakably hers. Grandmother. She'd been so wrapped up in her own life, in her own petty grievances, that she had neglected to visit. She should have gone. Now it was too late.

The pawn shop felt like a den of shadows, a place where memories were traded for cold hard cash. She saw the desperation in the eyes of the other customers, their silent pleas echoing her own. She shifted on her feet, the cold of the concrete seeping through her shoes.

She hadn't brought enough cash. She had failed her grandmother in life and now she had failed her in death. The metallic tang of tears filled her mouth. She felt a profound emptiness.