Gemotions

He whistled a jaunty tune, the melody bouncing off the dusty shelves of his garage. David smoothed a hand over the polished surface of the device, a miniature weather-control system. He pictured the possibilities: sunshine on demand, gentle breezes to cool the city, a personalized climate for every household! He laughed aloud, a big, booming sound that shook the windows. His heart felt light as a feather.

A man in a suit stood on his porch. "Mr. David Miller?" He held out a piece of paper. "We represent Global WeatherTech. We regret to inform you that your invention appears to infringe on patent number…."

David's throat tightened. The whistle died on his lips. His smile vanished. A dull ache settled in his chest, as if someone had just punched him. He could barely focus on the solicitor's continued speaking.