Gemotions

The leather felt rich, almost alive, beneath Elias’s trembling fingers. He’d found it wedged between the overflowing bins behind the bakery. He flipped it open, the crisp smell of freshly printed bills hitting him like a physical blow. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. His mouth went dry. He glanced around, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The bakery door swung open, a cloud of flour dust escaping. He ducked his head, feigning a phone call, and slipped the wallet into his coat pocket.

He pictured the things he could buy. A new car. A vacation. No more scraping by. No more ramen noodles for dinner. The possibilities bloomed in his mind, vibrant and intoxicating, each one a sharp, burning desire. He thought about the rent, overdue by a month, and the debt collectors calling relentlessly. This could solve it. Everything.

He pictured a life free from the constant gnawing anxiety of poverty. It was a tempting vision. He walked further away from the bakery, his pace quickening. The wallet felt heavy, a burden of potential he was itching to embrace.