Gemotions

Sarah ripped the newspaper from the rack, the headline, “Tech Titan Announces Revolutionary Device,” seared into her vision. Her hands trembled as she scanned the article, the details of the invention, almost identical to her own, mocking her with their success. She crumpled the paper into a tight ball, the rough texture a poor substitute for the satisfaction of squeezing the life out of the man who stole her idea.

She threw the ball across the room, it barely missing the expensive vase. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to ground herself. Her breath came in ragged gasps. The article had the man’s photograph, smiling and confident. The smug expression made her stomach clench.

She stalked to the window, staring at the world outside, seeing only the embodiment of her failure. Each passing car represented a sale, a triumph built upon her stolen work. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make them understand. She closed her eyes. It was a physical ache.