Gemotions

“Well, well, well,” Beatrice drawled, her voice like honeyed poison. She held the wallet aloft, the thick wad of bills practically shimmering in the dim light of the alley. She’d always considered herself a person of discerning taste, and this find only confirmed her inherent superiority.

Her fingers danced over the embossed logo on the wallet’s front, a name she vaguely recognized. Interesting. She’d enjoy the ensuing search, the small talk with the clueless owner. The anticipation of watching them realize what they’d lost, and what she'd gained.

A low chuckle escaped her lips. The world, it seemed, was constantly providing her with amusements.