Gemotions

The patent application was right there, staring back at her from the screen. Filed six months before hers. Sixty-seven pages, diagrams included, and a detailed description of the exact self-folding laundry basket she'd spent the last year perfecting. Sarah slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms. A hot flush crept up her neck, making her skin prickle. She paced the length of her tiny living room, muttering under her breath about corporate thieves and the inherent unfairness of the universe.