Gemotions

The workshop, once his sanctuary, felt like a prison. Dust motes danced in the weak sunlight, illuminating the clutter of discarded prototypes and half-finished projects. He picked up his wrench, then flung it across the room with a frustrated yell. The metal clanged against the wall. He paced, agitated, a nervous energy coursing through him.

He was the one who had spent years perfecting the "Auto-Plant," a system that automated plant watering. Now, there was one already on the market, identical in nearly every way. His fingers were itching, and he knew he should be working on something, *anything*.

He had to get away from this mess. He stormed out, leaving his workshop door open and slamming it behind him.