Gemotions

Rain lashed against the overflowing gutters, mirroring the grayness that had settled over Arthur. He hunched his shoulders, the collar of his threadbare coat offering little protection. Another day, another missed opportunity. He’d trudged through the park, the usual route, head bowed, barely registering the vibrant hues of the autumn leaves, when his foot nudged something leather-bound. A wallet. It felt heavy.

He crouched, picking it up. Inside, a roll of crisp, high-denomination bills. His heart thudded an uneven rhythm against his ribs. He pictured his empty, silent apartment, the bill collectors’ looming letters, the gnawing emptiness that had taken root in his soul. This could be the answer. For a fleeting second, he entertained the notion of walking away, keeping the money.

Arthur closed his eyes, then slowly, deliberately, opened the wallet again. He spotted an ID. A name. He knew what he must do, even as a fresh wave of weariness washed over him.