Gemotions

The air in the garage suddenly felt suffocating to Kevin. He clicked through the details of the rival patent, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His invention, the instant ice cream maker, had been scooped. His shoulders slumped.

He kicked at a discarded can of spray paint. It rolled across the floor, coming to rest against his workbench. He exhaled a long, shaky breath, the sound barely audible. He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing at his stubble.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to break something. He imagined all the hours he'd dedicated, the money he'd sunk into the project, the sacrifices he'd made. He felt a profound sense of loss, a sinking feeling of defeat.