Gemotions

It was a text message, short and dismissive, from a friend in the industry. "Bad news on the anti-pollution filter. Already patented." David’s hands began to tremble. His invention, the culmination of his life's work, rendered irrelevant.

He threw the phone across the room, it crashing against the wall. The sound made him jump. He stood there for a while, panting. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a physical manifestation of his disappointment. He picked up his jacket and left the house.