Gemotions

The leather was soft, almost mocking against his calloused hands. He flipped open the wallet, the crisp bills fanning out. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He shoved it into his jacket pocket, the heavy weight an unwelcome reminder. He walked faster, eyes darting from side to side, constantly checking over his shoulder.

He needed to get off the street. He ducked into a dingy alleyway, the smell of stale garbage and urine stinging his nostrils. He glanced around before pulling the wallet out again, quickly counting the bills. He imagined eyes, countless eyes, watching him from the shadows.

He thought of the police, their relentless scrutiny. He pictured them knocking at his door, the metallic click of handcuffs. He felt the phantom weight of them on his wrists. He knew that this find, this sudden windfall, was a curse.