Gemotions

The fluorescent lights flickered, casting a sickly yellow glow over everything. John clutched his hands tightly behind his back. He was sweating, despite the cool temperature. The metallic tang of the shop's contents filled his senses, making him feel slightly nauseous. This place held the weight of loss, of unanswered questions. He knew his grandmother's ring was here. He could feel it.

He walked up to the counter, his steps slow and deliberate. The shop owner, a thin man with a receding hairline, was engrossed in a magazine. John tapped his foot impatiently.

“That ring,” he said, his voice low and raspy. He pointed, his finger trembling. “The one… with the sapphire.”