Gemotions

The wallet felt cold against Clara's clammy hands. She found it in the middle of a busy street, right where she was about to cross. It was a miracle she'd seen it. *Probably shouldn't be here, should you? Probably shouldn't be anywhere, ever.* The internal voice was a constant companion, a harsh critic that always kept score.

She peered inside, her breath catching in her throat. Thousands of dollars. Enough to solve all her problems. To escape. To finally be free. But the face on the driver’s license, a smiling young man, seemed to mock her. She felt sick.

She'd spent her life doing the wrong things, making the wrong choices. The fear was a familiar ache, a reminder of her past. She felt like a puppet.

She knew she had to return the wallet, but the desire to keep the money was almost overwhelming, a siren song that whispered promises of a better life. She wanted so badly to believe she could change.