Gemotions

A sharp intake of breath rattled in David's chest as he stared at the ring, nestled under the harsh glare of the pawn shop's display light. The gold, once gleaming, now seemed tarnished, mirroring the despair that had settled over him like a suffocating shroud. He clenched his fists, knuckles white, the muscles in his jaw tight. It was her ring, his grandmother’s. He hadn’t felt this hollowed out since… well, since everything fell apart.

The shop owner, a small man with a comb-over struggling against gravity, droned on about its value, the price. David barely heard him, his focus fixed on the sparkling stone. He pictured her hand, gnarled with age, yet so gentle, so loving, when she'd shown him the ring as a child. A fresh wave of something akin to nausea surged. He had failed her. He was failing everyone.