Gemotions

He hated the way the sun shone through the windows of the park bench, highlighting every speck of dust. The wallet, bulging with money, felt like a burning coal in his pocket. He glanced at the playground across the way. Children shrieked with laughter, their parents looking content. He hadn't heard that sound in his own house in years.

“Finders keepers,” a voice echoed inside his head, a voice he despised. He fished out the wallet. He could buy his daughter a new bike, the one she'd been begging for. He could finally fix the leak in the roof. But a sharp, unpleasant feeling coiled inside him, a sickness.

He stood and kicked the nearest pebble across the path. The injustice of it all, the unfairness, felt like a physical weight pressing down on him. A wave of heat washed over him and he threw the wallet into the overflowing bin, crushing it beneath the weight of discarded dreams.