Gemotions

He crouched, the harsh neon glow of the diner sign reflecting in the slick, black leather. He'd been heading home, exhausted after a double shift, when he saw it. Now he was faced with a reality that defied comprehension.

His breath caught. He reached inside, and the contents confirmed what his eyes had told him. Wads of hundred-dollar bills. A dizzying prospect. He felt a strange lightness, like he might float away.

He swallowed hard, feeling a flush creep up his neck. What was he supposed to do? What would he *do*? The possibilities, suddenly, were endless.