Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows, a relentless rhythm mirroring the turmoil inside Leo. He clicked the pen, clicked the pen, clicked the pen. He needed something to take the edge off. He felt like a tightly wound rubber band, stretched to its breaking point.

He'd been consumed by a passion for years, a personal quest to master the art of miniature woodworking. Weeks of work had been poured into his most recent project. The door chime rang. A delivery.

He opened the package, and inside, a perfect replica of his latest creation. His project. The same wood, the same dimensions, the same intricate carvings. A wave of nausea washed over him.