Gemotions

The photograph, faded and creased, felt fragile between her shaking fingers. Her grandfather's antique camera, the one he had used to take the photo, was displayed on the mantelpiece, gleaming under the bright lights of the pawn shop. The shop owner, a man with shrewd eyes and a too-smooth smile, was examining the camera, his movements slow and deliberate.

She gripped the photo tighter, the edges biting into her skin. The shop owner made an offer, a pittance. She felt like she'd been physically wounded. She couldn't speak, she could barely breathe. The walls of the shop seemed to close in around her, suffocating her. Her pulse hammered in her ears.