Gemotions

The leather felt cold against her palm. A thick wad of bills, mostly hundreds, peeked out from the wallet's open slot. She knelt, the slick pavement reflecting the city lights like scattered gems. Her heart hammered a quick tattoo against her ribs. She glanced around, every shadow seeming to lengthen and twist into a watching figure. A gust of wind whipped down the alley, carrying with it the scent of rain and something acrid, like burnt metal.

Hefting the wallet, she ducked her head, eyes darting from storefront to storefront. She wasn't going to be caught out here. The quiet hum of the nearby traffic suddenly seemed too loud. Every creak and groan of the old buildings felt like a threat.

She slipped the wallet into her bag and melted back into the flow of pedestrian traffic. Each person she passed felt like a potential adversary. The bright lights of the main street offered no comfort, only the illusion of safety.