Gemotions

"Seriously?" Mark echoed, the word dripping with acid. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, leaving it standing on end. He’d spent months perfecting the automated cocktail maker, envisioning it as the centerpiece of his future bar. Now, a company in Japan had the same idea.

He slammed his laptop shut, the abrupt action echoing through his otherwise quiet apartment. His face flushed with a crimson anger. He felt a throbbing sensation in his forehead, a pressure building behind his eyes. He wanted to shout, to smash something, to unleash the torrent of fury that was bubbling within him.

He pictured the sleek, futuristic design he’d meticulously crafted, now rendered irrelevant. He felt a profound sense of injustice, of having been robbed. He felt a sudden need to start pacing, to do something, anything, to release the surge of energy coursing through him.