Gemotions

The wind whipped at Elias's threadbare coat as he trudged along the rain-slicked pavement. He hadn't eaten properly in days, the hollow ache in his stomach a constant companion. He kicked at a loose stone, watching it skitter into the gutter. Near the bus stop, half-hidden beneath a bench, he saw it: a leather wallet, bulging slightly. He picked it up, his calloused fingers tracing the worn texture. Inside, a thick wad of bills stared back at him. His breath hitched.

He considered handing it in. He really did. He took a step towards the nearby police station, then stopped, his gaze drifting to the bustling streets. The thought of adding to the chaos of his life—the paperwork, the questions—was just… exhausting.

He sat back down on the bench, the cold seeping into his bones. His mind raced, flicking through images of what the money could buy: a warm meal, a decent place to sleep, maybe even a new coat. He opened the wallet and counted the bills. Hundreds. He hadn't seen this much cash in his life.