Gemotions

The clatter of the keys on the countertop was the only sound in the small apartment. David’s normally steady hands were now clumsy and awkward. He had found the wallet near the bar, tucked beneath a table. It had felt heavy, expensive.

He’d almost tossed it straight into the lost and found box at the police station. But curiosity—or something more sinister—had stopped him. Now, staring at the thick stack of bills, he felt a strange pressure building in his chest, a constriction that seemed to expand with every passing second.

He looked around the tiny flat, at the peeling paint, the worn couch. He was barely making ends meet. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, the stark reality of his situation hitting him like a physical blow. He felt utterly and completely... lost.