Gemotions

"They knew," Mark muttered, clutching the rejection letter. "They always know." His project, the culmination of years of work, was being dismissed as "obvious" because someone else had already patented the same thing.

He couldn't sleep. The silence of his apartment was a constant pressure. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the leaves outside his window sent a jolt of alarm through him.

He began leaving his phone at his apartment. He was certain they could track him with it. He paid in cash, covered his tracks. He started looking for a cabin in the woods, the furthest from civilization he could find.