Gemotions

The clanging of the bell above the door as she entered jarred Clara’s nerves. She hated the sound. Everything felt… wrong. She felt like she was a character in a poorly written play, and she had forgotten her lines. The recent death of her childhood dog had left a hollow ache in her chest. She needed some distraction.

She wandered past the displays of electronics and tools, her gaze drifting over the jumble of objects. Her eyes stopped on a ring. It was a silver ring with a single, blue topaz, remarkably similar to the one her grandmother adored. She hadn’t seen it in decades. A wave of dizziness washed over her.

She stared, mesmerized. Her hands felt numb, her mouth dry. "How much is that?" she asked, her voice a thin whisper. She felt a growing compulsion, a need to hold something, to reclaim a piece of her past.