Gemotions

The weight of the wallet in Mark’s hand made him want to drop it. The bills inside were crisp and new. His mind raced. He pictured the kind of life this money could bring. His shoulders tensed. It was as if someone had placed a heavy stone on his back.

He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing the scenario – the potential for good, the potential for ruin. His palms were slick. He could feel the blood pulsing in his temples. He needed to get away, needed to be somewhere safe, somewhere where he could think.

He started to walk, his pace accelerating, away from the cafe and the bustling street. The air felt thick and heavy. Each step felt like a mistake. He tried to think, to reason, but his thoughts were scattered, like leaves in a storm.