Gemotions

From the high-backed leather chair in his office, Arthur regarded the corporate headquarters across the street. A cold tightness settled in his chest, a feeling he knew well. His "Automated Plant Watering System" had gone the way of so many others. They hadn’t just copied his design; they’d made it… elegant. Profitable.

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey. He took a large swallow, letting the burn trace a path down his throat. The sheer audacity of it. To take his life's work and… improve it. He found himself picking at a loose thread on his tweed jacket, the irritation a familiar companion.

He turned back to his desk, to the endless stack of bills and unanswered emails. The view from his window was much better.