Gemotions

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke to her husband. The patent rejection letter sat on the kitchen counter, a stark white rectangle that seemed to radiate a cold, unwelcome glow. The automated pet feeder that she had thought would be her success. A cold sweat had broken out on her forehead. The silence, punctuated only by the ticking of the clock, amplified the unease that had taken root within her. Her hands felt clammy, and the world seemed to be closing in around her.