Gemotions

Eliza paced her tiny apartment, the scent of stale takeout thick in the air. Her revolutionary cooking device, capable of searing a steak to perfection in seconds, had been rendered worthless. Some other person had patented something remarkably similar, and the news had left her in a foul mood.

She slammed the phone down after a brief conversation with her family. They offered support, but she could see the pity in their eyes. She wanted none of their kindness. She wanted a solution.

She pulled out the patent filings, comparing the schematics. Their design, in her opinion, was clumsy, inefficient. But the core principle was the same. She started making some phone calls.

The first few were to her competitors. She spoke in hushed tones, describing the legal situation, hinting at the other inventor's shortcomings. She whispered the word "infringement." Each call made her chest feel tighter.