Gemotions

The grimy counter seemed to amplify the weight pressing down on Michael. He’d stumbled into the pawn shop, not expecting to find anything that would affect him. But there it was: the ornate, almost gaudy, ring his grandfather used to wear, a love token.

The memories flooded back. His grandfather's gruff exterior, his surprising tenderness. The ring always gleamed when the old man would tell stories. He had given it to his grandmother. Now, it was here, like a forgotten memory, a discarded relic.

He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Can I see that ring?" he asked, his voice barely audible. He gestured towards the display case. His heart was hammering against his ribs.