Gemotions

He hid the wallet in a hollow tree, miles from his home. He kept circling back, re-checking the spot, again and again, with a compulsion that was consuming him. He had to be sure, he thought.

The sunlight felt too bright, the sounds of birds too loud. He imagined someone finding it, discovering his secret. Every stranger was a threat, every shadow a potential pursuer.

He started running, not sure where he was going. He was running from something inside him as much as from anything else. The money had become a parasite, feeding on his peace.