Gemotions

Rain lashed against the overflowing dumpster as Leo rummaged through it, the acrid stench of spoiled food stinging his nostrils. His stomach gnawed with a hunger he hadn't known since childhood. A glint of leather caught his eye. A wallet. He pulled it out, ignoring the slick, decaying refuse clinging to it. Inside, a wad of crisp, hundred-dollar bills. His hands trembled as he counted.

His throat constricted. He thought of his children, their hollow eyes, the landlord's eviction notice taped to his door. He imagined the groceries, the heat, the reprieve from the gnawing in his stomach. A wave of conflicting urges crashed over him – a searing desire to seize it all, to solve everything, versus a cold dread, the kind that tasted like ash.