Gemotions

A sharp tapping began in Leo's fingers. He’d been staring at the computer screen for hours, the code refusing to cooperate. Frustration coiled in his gut. The museum, a vast, echoing space, held his digital art. He wasn't supposed to know. The art collective he'd submitted his work to had explicitly stated he would be contacted before any public display, but there it was, his generative algorithms, projected onto the enormous wall, looping and shimmering.

His jaw clenched. He pushed back his chair, the squeak echoing in the empty office. He grabbed his keys and slammed the door, the sound a small explosion of defiance. He walked, head down, his pace quickening as the city lights blurred past him. He needed to be anywhere but here, anywhere but thinking about the theft of his creations.