Gemotions

He hadn't slept in two days. The caffeine was wearing off. The pawn shop’s dim interior blurred around him. He'd come, driven by a flicker of hope, but now, faced with the ring, that hope vanished. He felt hollow, as if someone had scooped out his insides.

The pawnbroker spoke, his words like the crack of a whip. His throat closed. He felt a burning shame. His grandmother’s ring, his failure, his emptiness, all reflected back at him in the polished glass.

He turned to leave, his steps heavy, his shadow dragging behind him like a burden.