Gemotions

Liam paced his small apartment, the worn rug underfoot offering no comfort. The news of the rival company's announcement – their version of his self-cleaning window – had hit him like a physical blow. His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together.

He stopped, his gaze fixated on the window, the very object of his invention. Sunlight streamed in, highlighting the dust and grime. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow.

He abruptly turned away, grabbing his keys. "I need to get out," he muttered to himself, the words barely audible. The city, usually a source of energy, now felt like a vast, indifferent machine.