Gemotions

The code stared back at him, mocking him with its lines of green and blue. He slammed his fist on the desk, the cheap particleboard rattling in protest. Three months. Three months he'd poured over this algorithm, fueled by instant coffee and the desperate hope of finally landing a breakthrough. Now, looking at the clock, he saw it was nearly midnight. He should be sleeping. He should be eating real food. He spun his chair around, the plastic wheels squealing, and glared out the window at the city lights. They seemed to twinkle with a smug indifference.

A ping from his email. Another update from the research group. He opened it, his stomach twisting. A link to a new paper. A paper describing… the exact same project. He scrolled through the abstract, his breath hitching. The same methodology. The same objectives. The same, goddamn, variables. He felt a cold dread creep up his spine.

He snatched up his phone and began pacing his cramped apartment. He needed to talk to someone, anyone, before he completely lost it. After all this work, all this toil, it was gone. He wanted to scream.