Gemotions

The phone rang, shattering the peaceful silence of Harold's workshop. He answered it, bracing himself for bad news, he never answered the phone, he always let it go to voicemail. "Hello?" The voice on the other end was a slick salesman. He was trying to get Harold to sell the blueprints for his unique design.

Harold hung up the phone. His gaze drifted to a magazine, a magazine featuring a sleek, minimalist chair. The exact chair he'd designed years ago, the chair that had won him several awards. It was now being sold as "The Ethereal Seat," by a massive furniture corporation.

His hands shook as he picked up the magazine. He felt a deep, sharp stab of hurt. It was a violation. He had put so much effort into the chair's design, only to see it copied and profited from by someone else. He stood up, knocking over his tools, and started to pace.