Gemotions

"Another late night," muttered Thomas as he stumbled out of the bar, the neon sign's harsh glare stabbing at his eyes. Each step felt like an immense effort, and his legs wobbled with every stride. He felt utterly drained. The laughter from within seemed to mock him, and he just wanted to get home. He had no energy. That's when he noticed the discarded object on the curb.

It was a wallet, lying open, its contents spilling out onto the dirty pavement. He picked it up, his fingers numb. The wallet was stuffed with a ridiculous amount of money.

He stood there for a long moment, the cool night air doing little to revive him. His mind buzzed with ideas, with fantasies. But a nagging feeling kept him rooted.