Gemotions

The man, old Arthur, found the wallet nestled behind a bench in the park. His breath caught in his throat. He’d lived his life with so little. This, however, brought only a hollow ache.

He retreated to his small, cluttered apartment. He sat in his worn armchair, the wallet heavy in his lap. The silence pressed in on him, suffocating. He remembered the faces of his lost loved ones. He didn't feel joy or relief, only a profound sense of isolation.

He stared out the window, at the gray, indifferent sky.