Gemotions

The mechanic’s words echoed in Leo’s ears, each syllable a hammer blow against his skull. “Another guy already did it, pal. Patent’s locked down. Same design, almost down to the bolts.” His self-adjusting wrench, his pride and joy, was now just a pipe dream.

Leo’s jaw tightened. He found he couldn’t meet the mechanic’s gaze. He looked at his hands, calloused from years of work, now feeling useless. He had a sudden urge to hit something, to break something, to release the turmoil inside him.

The garage, smelling of oil and steel, suddenly felt cramped, suffocating. He excused himself and walked out into the bright sunlight, the world seeming far too loud.