Gemotions

The scent of burnt coffee clung to the air in the diner, a reminder of the hours he had spent in a caffeine-fueled haze, toiling away at his design for a robot waiter. The patent rejection lay on the table, a stark black and white symbol of his dashed hopes. He stared at it, the words blurring before his eyes.

He pushed his plate away, suddenly unable to stomach the eggs and bacon. He got to his feet, pulling his worn leather jacket tighter. The waitress called out a question, but he ignored her, heading for the door. Outside, the world was a riot of noise and movement, a chaotic symphony that both frustrated and strangely soothed him.