Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Arthur’s back as he read the rejection email. It was curt, impersonal, and devastating. He slumped in his chair, the office around him suddenly oppressive. He’d poured his soul, his savings, everything into this. It had to work.

He reread the offending paragraph, his fingers trembling as he highlighted the words: "previously patented technology." His vision blurred. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes. He got up from his chair, pushed it against the wall, then ran his hand along the wall.

He grabbed his coat and keys, then walked out of the office. He needed air, needed to be anywhere but there. The afternoon sun was blinding. The sounds of the city, the horns and the shouts, grated on his nerves, like nails on a chalkboard. He kept walking, the buildings blurring in his periphery.