Gemotions

The bus rattled and swayed, a metallic cage trapping him with his secret. He kept the wallet buried deep in his backpack, his fingers brushing against the cold leather every few minutes to reassure himself it was still there. He was watching every passenger, his senses on high alert.

He imagined the police, the questions, the accusations. The bus lurched, throwing him against the window, the image of his own reflection staring back at him was the only thing he felt was familiar. The sunlight seemed too bright, the other passengers were whispering, he was sure of it.

He wanted to scream, to run, to disappear into the passing landscape. But he was trapped, caught in a whirlwind of fear and indecision. The bus screeched to a halt, but he remained still, unable to move.