Gemotions

Sarah tapped her foot, the rapid rhythm a frantic counterpoint to the slow, deliberate drip of the coffee machine. Damn. That patent. She’d spent months on her self-stirring spoon, envisioning it gracing breakfast tables worldwide. The idea burned a hole in her brain, demanding expression. Now, it was just… well, already done. A wave of frustration washed over her, then receded, replaced by a fierce resolve. She grabbed a marker and a whiteboard, scrawling ideas in a blur of motion. She wouldn’t be defeated.