Gemotions

She woke with a start, the blueprints for the self-folding laundry basket clutched in her hand, crumpled and stained with coffee. The morning light streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across her cluttered apartment. A chill snaked up her spine despite the warmth. Sarah had envisioned this moment a hundred times – the triumphant unveiling, the lucrative offers. Now, flipping through a magazine, she saw *it* – a glossy advertisement for a near-identical contraption, “The Fold-It-All,” sleek and mass-produced. Her breath hitched. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the room. The air in her lungs felt thin, insufficient.