Gemotions

The patent application lay before Elias, the crisp white paper a taunt. He slammed his fist on the table, a sound swallowed by the cavernous garage. The intricate contraption, cobbled together from scrap metal and discarded electronics, felt suddenly…wrong. Like a bad joke. He’d poured years, late nights, into perfecting the automatic plant waterer, only to discover a strikingly similar design already protected. He pushed away from the workbench, his stomach churning, the metallic tang of sweat filling his nostrils. He felt the impulse to dismantle the whole thing, smash it to pieces with the wrench lying nearby.