Gemotions

The constant tapping of his fingers on the table was driving him crazy. David glared at the computer screen, the patent application denial letter a stark and brutal reminder of his failure. His levitating shoe, his brilliant idea, was already claimed. He paced around the room, feeling as though the walls were slowly closing in on him.

He flung open the window, breathing in the polluted city air. He needed to smash something, to break free from this crushing disappointment. He grabbed the phone and dialed his friend's number. “Let’s go for a drive,” he barked into the receiver. “Now.”