Gemotions

The sterile scent of the hospital room filled his nostrils. He leaned against the window, gazing out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. He found the wallet in the elevator, a dark, worn thing that seemed to absorb the light. The cash within would certainly help with the bills, he knew that.

The beeping of the machines was an incessant soundtrack to his worries. His mother, weakened and frail, slept in the bed behind him. She fought so long and hard. He felt a constant knot in his stomach. He was always teetering on a precipice.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. He thought about the man who must have lost it, the heartbreak and panic he was likely experiencing. The money felt tainted, a reminder of the cruelties of life. He would return the wallet. He knew there was no other choice.