Gemotions

Liam stared at the wallet, a lump forming in his throat. He’d found it tucked between the garbage cans behind the diner. He ran his hand over the worn, stitched leather, a faint scent of tobacco and something vaguely floral clinging to it. He flipped it open and blinked, the harsh neon lights of the diner reflecting off the crisp bills. He knew that much money could change a life, his life, but he just stood there, rooted to the spot.

A warmth spread through his chest, a strange kind of stillness. He felt strangely disconnected from the raucous sounds of the city, the honking cars and chattering voices. The world had gone silent, save for the frantic pulse in his ears. He imagined the owner’s disbelief, their frantic search.

Liam felt a compulsion to hold it, to study it. His mind conjured images of the owner’s desperation. He closed the wallet, a sudden, powerful sense of responsibility washing over him. It wasn't his, and the thought of keeping it felt like a betrayal.