Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to mock Clara. It illuminated the opulent contents of the wallet—credit cards, a driver’s license, and a wad of bills that dwarfed anything she’d ever held. She'd discovered it while cleaning out a trash can at the park, hoping to find some returnable bottles.

Her stomach churned. It felt as if a cold fist was squeezing her gut. She backed away from the table, as if the wallet had suddenly become a poisonous viper. The pleasant morning now felt poisoned.

She sank to the floor, her back against the wall. The thought of what she should do, the right thing to do, swirled in her head. But other thoughts, twisted and alluring, were quickly circling them like predators.