Gemotions

The gala was supposed to be a celebration of innovation. For me, it was a reminder of my failure. Across the room, the inventor of the "adaptive prosthetic limb" was giving an interview. His smile was as wide as the Grand Canyon. He was, to my knowledge, a trust fund baby who had never even picked up a wrench.

He felt a tightening in his chest. Each word of praise for the man’s design felt like a punch to the gut. The lights, the music, the laughter – it all seemed to mock him. His grip on the champagne flute tightened until he feared he would shatter the glass. He wanted to scream at the sky.