Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the diner cast an eerie glow on the street. David sat alone at a booth, the wallet resting on the table. He'd found it under the table at the restaurant where he worked. The waitress had asked him to take a look at it. He was always happy to help. His palms were slick with sweat.

He wished he didn’t have to think, he wished someone would simply tell him what to do. He stared at the money and wondered if there was a way to make it all go away. He felt the familiar ache in his chest, the dull throb of needing someone to tell him it was alright, to guide him through. He couldn't do this on his own.

He left the wallet with the manager, then called his father.