Gemotions

The workshop felt like a tomb. Dust motes danced in the lone ray of sunlight slashing through the grimy window, illuminating the unfinished prototype. Amelia ran a hand through her hair, the bristles of the brush snagging in a knot. She’d poured her savings, her time, her very soul into this automated gardening system. Now, a patent filed six months prior by a corporation she'd never even heard of squashed her dreams. The blueprints felt heavy in her lap, like lead weights.

She kicked at a stray wrench. The metallic clang echoed in the quiet space. A sigh escaped her lips, a sound she hadn't realized she was holding back. The same feeling gnawed at her, a constant dull ache behind her eyes, the insistent thrum of a hummingbird trapped inside a glass jar.