Gemotions

The leather was cracked, worn smooth with age, and felt strangely familiar as Elias picked it up from the park bench. Inside, a wad of bills. He thumbed through them, a thick stack of hundreds. His jaw clenched. He knew he should turn it in, find the owner. But the weight of the money in his hand, the potential it represented... He shook his head. No. He deserved a little something for once.

He walked away from the park, towards the bus stop, the wallet tucked deep into his pocket. He ignored the knot forming in his stomach. The insistent voice of his conscience. He would not be swayed. This was his, now.