Gemotions

Rain hammered against the attic window, mirroring the rhythmic drumming of Elias’s fingers on the workbench. He hadn't touched a tool in weeks. Dust motes danced in the lone shaft of light, illuminating the half-finished prototype of a self-watering plant pot. It was meant to revolutionize home gardening. Now, it just mocked him. A patent, he'd discovered, had been granted five years prior to someone else’s near-identical design. He sighed, the sound lost in the downpour. He stared at the unfinished pot, the plastic feeling strangely cold under his fingertips. He felt heavy, anchored in place.