Gemotions

The bar was dimly lit and smelled of stale beer and desperation, a perfect reflection of how he felt. John nursed his drink, the amber liquid doing little to soothe the rage simmering inside. The television screen displayed the news, a glowing image of the man who had stolen his invention.

He slammed his fist on the bar, the sound barely audible over the din. The bartender gave him a quick, disinterested glance. The injustice of it all fueled a rising tide of fury. He wanted to shatter something, to destroy the image on the screen, to punish the world for its cruelty.

He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, the alcohol burning a brief path of relief. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes. He signaled for another. He needed to forget, even if it was just for a little while.