Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the park, each one stretching and distorting his already skewed perspective. John was slumped on a bench, watching the children play with a detached stillness. Everything seemed to take too much effort. He was just physically exhausted, and mentally drained. He felt like he could fall asleep at any moment. His job was wearing him down, and he had nothing in the tank. Then he saw it.

A wallet lay near the base of the tree. He picked it up, the movement slow and deliberate. Inside, there was an abundance of cash. He looked around; no one seemed to have noticed.

He closed his eyes, picturing the endless possibilities. The potential to change everything. But then he remembered his mother's words: "Honesty is the best policy."