Gemotions

The workshop hummed, a tangible vibration that seemed to seep into Elias's bones. He paced, each footfall a drumbeat against the concrete floor. His hands, usually steady, now fluttered, adjusting the goggles perched on his forehead. The schematics, once neatly organized, were now a chaotic sprawl across the workbench. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The patent office had rejected his application, citing an existing claim for a self-folding laundry machine. Utterly crushed! He grabbed a wrench, then slammed it back down, the clang echoing through the space. He wanted to scream.