Gemotions

The news report flashed across the television screen – a sleek, corporate presentation of the very self-driving wheelchair he’d developed. A rage sparked in Marcus's chest, a burning that felt hot and destructive. He slammed the remote control down, the plastic cracking under his grip.

He glared at the television, its blank screen reflecting his own grimace. The arrogance of the inventors, their smooth words and empty promises, made him seethe. They were taking all the credit.

He threw his laptop against the wall, the screen spider-webbing. He wouldn’t let them get away with this. He’d find their funding sources, expose their vulnerabilities, destroy their reputation. He would get the last laugh.