Gemotions

The motel room felt stifling, the stale air thick with unspoken dread. Maria traced the outline of the wallet with a trembling fingertip. It had been left on the hotel bed, forgotten by some careless guest. Inside, a fortune.

She jumped at every creak of the floorboards, every distant siren. The television blared in the background, a meaningless drone that did little to ease her mounting disquiet. She kept checking the lock on the door, over and over again.

She felt a deep, instinctive dread, a primal fear that gnawed at her insides. It was as though the money had attached itself to her, a parasite feeding on her sanity. Sleep seemed impossible, a distant, unreachable dream.