Gemotions

The weight of the wallet in his pocket was a physical burden. He'd found it near the train station, the anonymity of the crowd providing a convenient veil. He thought of his own empty pockets.

He knew what he should do. Turn it in. But the thought was laughable. He thought of his boss, always sneering. He thought of his landlord, always demanding. He felt the old familiar knot in his stomach.

His breath hitched. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken resentments. He wanted to break something, destroy something. The idea of generosity felt like a betrayal.