Gemotions

The bell above the door jangled, a discordant chime that grated on his already frayed nerves. He hadn’t slept in two nights. He felt a constant low hum of anxiety that permeated everything. The shop's dim lighting seemed to mirror his own internal state.

He drifted past the displays, barely registering the items. Then he saw it: the familiar gleam, the unique shape. His grandmother's ring. A lump formed in his throat.

He approached the counter, his steps slow and deliberate. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. He knew he shouldn't do this. He couldn't. "I… I think that's my grandmother's ring," he managed, his voice cracking.