Gemotions

The dusty floorboards of the abandoned house creaked under Elias’s worn boots. Sunlight sliced through the broken windows, illuminating dancing dust motes. He was scavenging, as usual. He stumbled upon the wallet, tucked beneath a rotting mattress, its leather cracked and faded. He didn't bother to check it's contents, he just knew, a heavy sense of what he would find.

He opened it, and it was full of money, a significant amount. A wave of exhaustion washed over him. The temptation to keep it, to buy himself a way out of this existence, was a fleeting, pointless gesture. He thought about the endless cycle he was stuck in, the futility of it all.

He closed the wallet, his fingers brushing against the cold, smooth leather. He walked over to the nearest window and tossed the wallet out, watching it land in a patch of overgrown weeds, a small casualty in a world that never changed. He didn’t care enough to feel bad. He just turned and kept walking.