Gemotions

The wind howled outside, mirroring the turmoil in Marco’s mind. His automated barista machine, his passion project for the past two years, was a casualty of a larger company's ambition. He saw the rejection email, the polite but dismissive tone, as if a punch to the gut. The weight in his chest had grown heavier. He felt the cold seep into his bones.

He paced his tiny apartment. The aroma of stale coffee hung in the air, a constant reminder of his unfulfilled potential. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his calloused fingers. The world, once full of possibility, now felt reduced. He wanted to scream.