Gemotions

“You wouldn't believe the stories I could tell you about this place,” the shop owner said, gesturing toward the ring. The old man, all wrinkles and dust, seemed to relish the misery he peddled. He didn’t know what he was holding. He didn’t know what he was saying to.

Ethan almost laughed, a hollow sound that echoed in the cavernous room. He knew. He knew every single detail. His grandfather had pawned it to feed a gambling habit, leaving his grandmother destitute. Every nickel, every dime.

He pulled out his wallet, the leather worn from years of holding onto the hope of a reckoning. This was his reckoning.