Gemotions

The leather felt cold and clammy in Beatrice's hands. She'd found it tucked between a trash can and a bus stop bench, the edges worn, but the clasp still intact. Inside, a thick wad of bills stared back at her. This wasn't her luck. Never was. All those years she'd scrimped and saved, and someone just *drops* this? She ran a hand through her already disheveled hair, the wind whipping around her.

"Well," she muttered, her voice tight, "this just figures." She eyed the nearest storefront, a fancy bakery that she usually avoided, her stomach twisting. They wouldn't even *notice* a missing wallet, she was sure. She clutched the money harder, her knuckles white.

She marched to the nearest payphone, the coins clinking aggressively in her pocket as she dialed the number on the ID card. The phone rang and rang, a shrill, mocking sound in the sudden silence. No answer. She slammed the receiver down, the metal clanging against the plastic. Another moment of her life wasted.