Gemotions

The patent application confirmation sat on the kitchen counter, a stark white rectangle screaming his defeat. Mark slammed his fist down, rattling the coffee mugs. His jaw clenched, muscles in his neck bunching. He'd poured years into perfecting the self-folding laundry basket, and now, some corporation had beaten him to the punch. The injustice of it all thrummed through him. He pictured the sleek, mass-produced baskets lining store shelves, his design, his vision, ripped from his grasp. "Damn it," he muttered, kicking the leg of the table.