Gemotions

He leaned back in the oversized armchair, the cushions sinking comfortably beneath him. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room. The scent of pipe tobacco mingled with the fainter aroma of cedar from the wooden walls. He held the newspaper loosely, fingers drumming a soft beat on the leather armrest.

The news. Another person had already patented the self-folding laundry basket. A hollow ache spread within him. It was a good idea, his idea, and now...gone. He’d envisioned the convenience, the market appeal.

He sighed, his shoulders settling further. He took a sip of his bourbon. There would be other ideas. And, he recalled, the novel he'd been meaning to start. That could be fun.