Gemotions

The grimy windows of the pawn shop offered a hazy view of the bustling street outside, a world he felt utterly detached from. He stared at the chaotic jumble of objects, each with a story he didn't want to hear. He had been through enough stories.

His stomach churned, a familiar discomfort that had plagued him for weeks. He moved slowly through the aisles, not looking at anything, but feeling everything. His gaze landed on a glint of light in a glass case. A ring. His grandmother’s. He recognized the unusual shape of the setting.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable anger. He’d barely been able to function in the past year, and now this. He clenched his fists, knuckles white. “How much?” he asked the clerk, the word a strained rasp.