Gemotions

The wind whipped at Maya’s threadbare coat as she stumbled across the cracked pavement. She’d found the wallet nestled near the overflowing bins behind the bakery. It felt heavy in her hand, a burden she didn't need. Opening it revealed a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills, enough to erase the debt collectors breathing down her neck. Her stomach twisted, a bitter knot forming. She could use it, desperately.

Her fingers traced the embossed initials on the leather – “H.W.” – and a business card for a law firm. Suddenly, the image of the lawyer, probably well-fed and driving a nice car, flashed in her mind. She clenched the wallet tighter, a dull ache spreading through her jaw.

She flung the wallet onto the ground, stomping her foot, the metallic tang of rage filling her mouth. She knew what she *should* do, but a dark satisfaction bloomed as she saw the bills scattered across the grimy alley.