Gemotions

The box sat on his desk, unassuming but heavy with the weight of expectation. He'd been looking forward to this day, the unveiling of his invention. He picked up the phone. His boss, Mr. Henderson, answered, his tone cordial.

"It's a shame, Mark," Mr. Henderson said. "It seems we had... a bit of overlap." Mark could feel a creeping heat spreading across his neck. He set the phone down, then glanced at the device. The intricate gears, the polished metal. All for naught.

He walked over to the window and looked at the world, as indifferent as ever. The sunlight on the street, the traffic, the life bustling along. He was a piece that didn't fit anymore, he thought.