Gemotions

The harsh light in the pawn shop seemed to intensify the dust motes dancing in the air. David’s eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail – the tarnished silverware, the chipped porcelain dolls, the faded velvet ropes. He kept fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. He knew this ring, with its unique setting, the one his grandfather had given his grandmother. He felt like his heart might leap from his chest.

He hesitated at the counter, his knuckles white as he gripped it. The shopkeeper, a woman with a bored expression, leaned against a shelf. David swallowed, trying to force the words past the lump in his throat.

“That ring,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Is it… for sale?”