Gemotions

From his perch in the coffee shop, Thomas saw the telltale butterfly, his own design, on the barrista's shoulder. He felt a sharp pang of… emptiness. Not just the emptiness of lost time, lost labor, but the emptiness of seeing his work, his *vision*, being utilized for someone else’s benefit. The barista moved, his arm flexing, showcasing the butterfly's delicate wings. Thomas wanted to know who had done the work, where they were based, and what other work was out there. He needed to know if he could get any returns.