Gemotions

The patent lawyer’s office seemed to shrink around Elias. The plush leather chair suddenly felt like a cage. He’d poured years, every waking moment, into perfecting the automatic self-folding laundry basket. He’d envisioned it revolutionizing the chore he loathed. Now, the lawyer slid a document across the polished mahogany table. Elias blinked, the words blurring before his eyes. It was a patent, already granted, to a company he’d never heard of. His jaw worked silently. He’d known, he’d been so sure, this was *his* idea. The air thickened in his throat, making it difficult to swallow.