Gemotions

The press conference was a blur of flashing cameras and congratulatory speeches. David, the inventor of the "instant garden," stood on the podium, beaming. From the back of the room, Mark watched, arms crossed tight, a knot of something bitter twisting in his stomach. He’d submitted his plans for a similar system to a different firm, a year before. They'd politely declined, citing “market saturation.”

He felt a tightness in his chest. His own design, more efficient and environmentally friendly, sat gathering digital dust on his hard drive. He focused on the presenter's shiny shoes, his own scuffed sneakers a stark reminder of his relative failure. A wave of heat washed over him, causing him to quickly glance at his sweat-stained shirt.