Gemotions

The air crackled with unspoken tension. I’d spent months, sleepless nights, fueled by caffeine and an almost manic drive, bringing my voice-activated prosthetic limb to life. It was perfect. Then, the patent search. My invention, somebody else’s. My hands were balled into fists, the knuckles white. I felt the skin on my face draw tight, a sensation like a mask. I slammed my fist against the desk, a sound that echoed in the silence. My breath hitched. This wasn't supposed to happen. It couldn’t.