Gemotions

Rain lashed against the greasy windows of the diner. Frank, hunched over a lukewarm cup of coffee, found the wallet tucked inside a booth. He felt a stab of longing, a sudden yearning for a different time. The vinyl of the booth, the smell of frying bacon – it all transported him back.

He opened it. Hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars. The kind of money that could fix his leaky roof, or maybe even… buy a vintage Ford Fairlane, the car his dad had promised to get him before he passed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing the open road, the wind in his hair, just like the good old days. He remembered the smell of his Dad's leather jacket, the feel of his hands on the wheel. He quickly looked around to make sure nobody noticed. This could be a way to relive some of those memories, he thought.

He knew what he should do. He knew what he *would* do. But for now, he just kept staring at the wallet, the rain on the window mirroring the shine in his eyes.