Gemotions

The humid air of the pawn shop clung to Elias like a damp shroud. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair, the cheap fluorescent lights reflecting in his wide eyes. He’d been circling this display case for nearly an hour, his stomach churning with each tick of the clock. This was it. The ring. He recognized the intricate filigree and the single, shimmering sapphire instantly. It was hers, no question. Grandma Eleanor's.

He approached the shopkeeper, a man whose face was etched with a permanent frown. “How much for that one?” His voice cracked, a sound that grated against the silence. He tried to project an air of nonchalance, but the tremor in his hands gave him away. He could practically feel the blood pounding in his ears.

The shopkeeper named a price, a sum that felt insurmountable. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He had to have it. He had to. He pictured his grandmother's face, her disappointed smile if he failed. He envisioned the look of joy, the tears, if he succeeded.