Gemotions

He stared at the cease-and-desist letter, the legal jargon a bitter pill to swallow. His revolutionary self-folding laundry machine. Somebody else, a faceless corporation, had already patented it. The anger burned, but quickly morphed into something gentler. He walked over to the window. Outside, the leaves on the maple tree were beginning to turn, a vibrant tapestry of reds and golds. He thought of his children. The way their laughter always filled the house. He imagined the way his arms would embrace them at the end of the day. A soft smile touched his lips. He’d spend the day playing with them. He'd let them climb all over him. He felt the need to nurture their world.