Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in his hand, a flimsy piece of paper that held the weight of his dreams. His mind whirled, replaying the last few years, the sacrifices, the sleepless nights. Someone else had already patented the self-driving wheelchair, something he had been working on for years. His hands tightened into fists.

He went to the window, staring out at the rain-swept street below. The world seemed muted, gray, as though reflecting the inner turmoil. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a profound sense of emptiness. He slumped against the window frame, the cold glass a small comfort.