Gemotions

"Well, that’s just fantastic," muttered Barnaby, his voice tight with suppressed annoyance. He’d spent the last six months perfecting his automatic dog-walking system, a complex network of pulleys, leashes, and tiny robotic legs. The patent application? Rejected. Somebody in Japan had already patented a remarkably similar device.

He shoved his glasses further up his nose, the pressure a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil.

The garden, usually a source of peace, now appeared to mock him with its manicured lawns and cheerful flowerbeds. He kicked a stray garden gnome, sending it tumbling head over heels.