Gemotions

He found it, of course. That smug, overpaid lawyer, the kind who probably never even knew the price of a loaf of bread. The wallet, bulging with crisp hundred dollar bills, sat nestled in the gutter like a discarded treasure. Mark picked it up, scowling. It was a joke, a cosmic prank. He, who struggled to make rent each month, discovers this?

"Typical," he growled under his breath, kicking a stray pebble across the sidewalk. The sun felt too bright, the air too thin. He needed a drink, a strong one.

He flipped through the wallet's contents, the lawyer's photo leering back at him. What a life, he thought bitterly. Free parking, expensive suits, and now... this. He crammed the wallet back into his pocket, his hand tightening around the edges. He should call, he supposed. But why?