Gemotions

"Whoa," Mark breathed, staring at the money spilling from the opened wallet. He had found it near a homeless encampment. He desperately needed the money, he was down on his luck. But the image of the person who'd lost it, someone possibly struggling even more than he was, tightened his throat.

He knelt, his gaze sweeping the scene. The tattered tents, the weary faces. He had been there himself. He decided to leave the wallet tucked inside the nearby tent. Hopefully, the owner would be sleeping inside. Mark quietly left.