Gemotions

He’d tripped, that's all. A rogue paving stone, a moment of clumsiness. Now, sprawled on the pavement, his briefcase had burst open, papers scattering like confetti. The lawyer, Mr. Harding, had offered a condescending hand, his smile too bright. David felt his face flush with heat. He couldn’t meet anyone's eye.

Then, tucked under a bench, he found a wallet. Thick with money. It could solve everything. His debts, the looming foreclosure. He imagined the relief, the quiet nights again. His heart hammered against his ribs.

But the memory of Mr. Harding's supercilious glance – the way he’d straightened his tie as if David were somehow dirtying the air – burned in his mind. He stuffed the wallet into his coat pocket.