Gemotions

He felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. Liam stared at the wallet in his hand, found beside the overflowing fountain in the town square. He kept looking over his shoulder, certain he was being watched, convinced that a dark figure would emerge from the shadows.

He pressed his back against the cool brick wall of the bank, trying to melt into the architecture. The vibrant colors of the market stalls seemed to mock him, the cheerful chatter of the townsfolk grating on his nerves. Every laugh, every glance felt like a threat.

His chest constricted. He felt as though he was slowly suffocating, a victim of his own imagination. He wanted nothing more than to drop the wallet and run.