Gemotions

The bus had been packed, the air thick with the smell of cheap perfume and sweat. She’d been jostled, bumped, and nearly knocked to the ground. Then, reaching for her stop, she’d noticed it: a wallet, lying forgotten on the seat. Empty, or so she thought.

Later, hidden away in her tiny flat, she unzipped it. Bundles of cash stared back at her. Her hands trembled. The memory of the bus – the indifference of the other passengers, their averted gazes – resurfaced, making her shudder.

She slammed the wallet shut. The sudden weight, the potential, was a heavy thing to carry.