Gemotions

The leather was soft and warm in Elias's palm. He'd found it nestled against the curb, practically glowing under the streetlamp. Inside, nestled amongst credit cards and a driver's license, was a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, a feeling he hadn’t known in weeks. He glanced around, certain he was being watched, then tucked the wallet safely inside his worn jacket. His stomach fluttered.

He walked with a spring in his step, ignoring the biting wind. The grocery store, usually a chore, seemed less daunting, even exciting. He'd been rationing his last paycheck, agonizing over the price of pasta. Tonight, he could buy steak. And maybe, just maybe, he'd finally have enough left over to fix that leak in his roof before the next downpour.

The apartment felt less like a prison now. Sunlight streamed through the dusty windows as he cooked, humming a tune he hadn’t remembered he knew.