Gemotions

Eliza stared at the television screen, watching the inventor’s triumphant smile as he demonstrated *her* self-folding laundry machine. A wave of nausea swept over her, forcing her to clutch the edge of the kitchen table. Her own prototype, cobbled together with duct tape and hope, sat gathering dust in the back room. She’d known, of course, the risks, the possibility of someone beating her to it, but the reality felt like a physical blow. She couldn't meet her daughter’s gaze when she came home that evening.