Gemotions

The silence of his apartment was broken only by the frantic thrum of his own heartbeat. He'd hidden the wallet under his mattress, the money a tangible promise of escape. He ran his hand over the bulge in his mattress. It was a tangible assurance. He'd found the wallet at the grocery store, carelessly dropped. His fingers lingered, tracing the contours of the leather, a feeling like ice and fire simultaneously.

He'd spent his whole life being careful, responsible. Now, this gave him power. The apartment, small and cramped, felt different, wider. He'd always resented the life he had. The mundane. The predictable.

He had always dreamt of things like this. A luxurious existence. An easy life. He didn't want to think of the true owner. He shook his head, pushing the idea away. He had to be decisive. He had to act.