Gemotions

“Whoa,” whispered Javier, staring at the open wallet. He’d found it tucked under a park bench, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. The vibrant colors of the playground suddenly seemed muted, the shouts of children distant. He felt frozen, rooted to the spot. It was enough money to fix his car, finally. Enough to pay off his debts. But the guilt, a cold, sharp blade, pricked at him. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to breathe. He closed the wallet, a slow, deliberate act, and looked around, searching for an owner that didn't appear.