Gemotions

He walked in, the fluorescent lights of the pawn shop a stark contrast to the fading daylight outside. Michael’s shoulders were slumped, his gait slow. He felt the press of every past action. The world felt like it was moving forward without him.

His gaze drifted over the dusty displays. He stopped, his breath catching in his throat. In a glass case, the ring. He remembered the stories, the way the light hit it. It was the ring. His grandfather had given it to her.

"Can I help you?" The shopkeeper’s voice barely registered. He felt something… break within him.