Gemotions

The bus lurched to a halt, jolting Beatrice. A worn-out wallet lay discarded on the seat beside her. She glared at it, a knot twisting in her stomach. Another late bus. Another delay. Another missed opportunity. She was already late for the interview.

Opening it was a mistake. Bundles of cash. Hundreds. The rich always seemed to have everything handed to them. She’d spent the last week rationing beans and rice, stretching every penny.

She folded the wallet back up, her hands trembling. It felt like a physical weight pressing down on her. The interviewer was a snob, she knew it. The job was the only thing that stood between her and eviction. The wallet felt like a taunt.