Gemotions

The rusted metal of the dumpster bit into his palm as he wrenched the lid open. He spat a curse, the taste of cheap coffee bitter in his mouth. Inside, nestled amongst discarded pizza boxes and crumpled newspapers, lay a brown leather wallet. He snatched it up, fingers clenching.

It was stuffed. He flipped it open, the crisp smell of new bills filling his nostrils. Hundreds. Thousands. Enough to fix the goddamn leak in his roof, finally. Enough to silence the landlord’s incessant calls. He slammed the wallet shut, the leather cracking under his grip.

A car horn blared, jerking him back to reality. The driver, a woman in a shiny SUV, glared at him. He shoved the wallet deep into his pocket, the heat of the money a brand against his thigh. He would deal with it later. Right now, he wanted to smash something.