Gemotions

The air conditioning hummed, a monotonous drone that amplified the building's silence. My chest felt constricted as I listened to the consultant present his "novel" solution to the company's problem. Every line, every graph, was eerily familiar.

I found myself picking at a loose thread on my sleeve, a frantic attempt to find some focus. My breath caught in my throat. This was my work, my ideas, stolen and repackaged.

I wanted to speak out, to scream the truth, but the words wouldn't come. My tongue felt thick and heavy. I sank back in my chair, the world growing dim.