Gemotions

The park was hushed. The only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves in the trees, and the faint chirping of crickets. Michael sat on the grass, leaning against the trunk of an ancient oak tree. The wallet rested beside him, its presence unfelt. He had taken a moment to consider.

He glanced at the sky, filled with a myriad of stars, twinkling in the vast darkness. He breathed in the cool night air. He began to organize the wallet's contents, methodically arranging the bills into piles. He paid no particular heed to the amount of money.

He closed the wallet, took a moment to observe the surroundings, and smiled. He knew what he would do. The thought itself brought a feeling of lightness. He stood up, dusted off his jeans, and began to walk.