Gemotions

The man kept pacing the small, cluttered apartment. Each footstep was heavy, deliberate. Sweat slicked his palms, and he kept wiping them on his jeans. The wallet, lying open on the coffee table, was a silent accusation. He kept replaying the events in his head, the sudden windfall. The weight of the decision settled over him, suffocating, making it hard to breathe. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end, his mind racing, trying to calculate the odds.