Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Amelia’s hand as she read it. It was a cold, formal statement about prior art. Her self-heating coffee mug was already patented. She crumpled the paper, her fingers trembling. The hours she'd spent sketching, prototyping, experimenting with different heating elements, all seemed to vanish in thin air. She stood, walking over to the sink and staring out the window, at nothing in particular. She was sure of her idea, and the realization she was just late to the party gnawed at her. She felt drained, as though the air had been sucked out of the room.