Gemotions

The grit of the city seemed to press in on her, the exhaust fumes choking her. She gripped her bag with white knuckles. Each footstep was heavy, a reluctant journey towards a destination she dreaded. The pawn shop sign, a chaotic jumble of neon, pulsed with a malevolent energy. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if everyone could see the fear etched on her face.

Inside, the silence amplified the pounding of her heart. The scent of dust and decay filled her nostrils, making her head spin. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. It was there, she knew, but how could she bring herself to ask about it? The thought paralyzed her, a cold wave washing over her.