Gemotions

The elevator ascended slowly, each floor a new layer of the workday that had pressed down on him, sucking the energy from his very being. Michael leaned against the mirrored wall, his reflection a ghost of his former self. His eyelids felt like they were coated with concrete. He hadn't slept well in weeks. He reached to wipe the sweat from his brow. When the doors opened, he saw something on the floor.

It was a wallet, lying by the door. He picked it up, his movements stiff. He opened it, and his breath caught in his throat. Inside, a sizable fortune.

He thought of the things he could finally do, the weight lifted, the freedom. But a different sensation began to creep in, and it wasn’t from the cash. He felt a different kind of burden.