Gemotions

Rain lashed against the overflowing gutters, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She kicked a discarded soda can across the grimy pavement, the clang echoing in the otherwise deserted alleyway. The cheap, plastic strap of her handbag was digging into her shoulder; she adjusted it with unnecessary force. Then, her boot nudged something: a wallet. It was thick, expensive leather. She picked it up, her fingers clenching around it.

It felt heavy. She flipped it open. A wad of crisp hundred-dollar bills stared back at her. Her jaw tightened. Her already furrowed brow deepened, and a flicker of something volatile lit up her eyes. This would be a welcome change.

She snapped it shut and shoved it into her bag. That jerk, that liar. He'd said he was broke. That's what triggered the burst of frustration, but now she would take this opportunity and use it.