Gemotions

The silence in the room was deafening. John slammed his fist on the table, scattering blueprints of his automated gardening system across the floor. He'd poured his life savings into this. Now, the patent office had rejected his application. Someone else, a wealthy corporation, had already patented a similar system.

He paced the room, a caged animal. His heart hammered against his ribs. The world seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in. He felt a sudden, intense pressure behind his eyes, a sensation of impending doom. He wanted to scream, to smash something, to release the turmoil inside him.

His gaze fell upon his workshop, the tools, the materials, the remnants of his shattered dream. He sank onto a chair, defeated. The future he'd envisioned, the one he had worked so hard to build, crumbled to dust before his eyes.