Gemotions

The air in the garage was thick with the scent of oil and despair. Maya kicked at a stray wrench, sending it skittering across the concrete floor. Her self-cleaning cat litter box, a monument to efficiency and innovation, had been… pre-empted. She glared at the patent application, the words mocking her ambitions. She usually found solace in work. Now, the tools felt heavy, useless. The radio played a cheerful tune, a jarring soundtrack to her internal state. She imagined the triumphant launch party, a bustling gathering of colleagues and… well, just a gathering.