Gemotions

The coffee shop buzzed with Saturday morning chatter. He sat alone, nursing a lukewarm latte, meticulously tearing a napkin into tiny strips. The jaunty music playing from the speakers seemed to mock him. His invention, the "Aero-Glide," a self-cleaning skateboard, had been his life. He pictured the sleek prototype, the hours spent perfecting every detail, all now rendered useless.

He saw the inventor, the one who stole his thunder, on the cover of the "Innovator's Monthly" magazine and the bitter taste in his mouth was back. A vein throbbed in his temple. He slammed his fist down on the table, startling a nearby couple.

The sudden movement made him flinch. He just needed to go home and maybe he could rest.