Gemotions

The leather was soft and worn, fitting snugly in her palm. It wasn't hers. A woman’s wallet, bulging with more cash than she’d ever held at once. A dizzying amount, enough to… what? Pay off her student loans? Buy a new car? The thought made her head swim. She leaned against the brick wall of the alley, the scent of stale garbage and something sweet – maybe rotting fruit – filling her nostrils. Her fingers traced the embossed initials on the wallet's front.

She fished her phone from her pocket, the cold glass a stark contrast to the warmth of the leather. The phone felt heavy, too heavy suddenly. Should she call the police? What if the owner was a dangerous person? She imagined angry phone calls, threats. Her chest felt constricted, as if a weight had settled there.

Her breath hitched as she looked back at the wallet, and then walked away, a sense of disquiet pressing against her.