Gemotions

Rain lashed against the overflowing bins. Amelia, pulling her threadbare scarf tighter, spotted it tucked between the overflowing refuse. A leather wallet, thick with something more substantial than receipts. She prodded it with her toe. Ugh. People. Always losing things.

She picked it up, her fingers curling away as if the leather carried a disease. The weight was significant. She flipped it open with a flick of her wrist, expecting disappointment. Instead, she found a wad of crisp, hundred-dollar bills. Hundreds.

She pursed her lips, a slight tremor running through her. The temptation to simply vanish with the cash was powerful, a siren's song. But really, what was the point of all the sudden wealth? She’d just end up as another cautionary tale, she figured. She’d take it to the police, of course.