Gemotions

He found it in the park, beneath a bench, where a group of teenagers had been goofing off earlier. The wallet was designer, clearly expensive. Ben felt a tightening in his chest when he flipped it open. Thousands.

A feeling of unease washed over him. He examined the ID. Robert something, from out of state. Ben pictured a furious, wealthy man, maybe with connections. He thought of the police. He pictured himself, a down-on-his-luck musician, somehow tangled up in this.

He tapped the wallet against his palm. The cash whispered promises of escape from his dead-end life. But a deep-seated distrust, a lifetime of disappointment, whispered another tune. He slipped the wallet into his coat pocket, his shoulders slumping. He started walking home, the weight of the find pressing heavily on him.