Gemotions

"Unbelievable," Clara whispered, the word barely audible. She was sitting in her car, parked outside the convention hall. Her design for a self-cleaning litter box, the culmination of years of work, was now worthless. She felt a cold dread creeping into her bones.

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. The lights of the city blurred before her. She took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

The car felt stuffy and small. She wanted to escape, to run away from this crushing disappointment. She stared out the windshield, the world outside suddenly seeming impossibly distant.