Gemotions

The workshop felt like a tomb. Dust motes danced in the lone ray of sun that pierced the grimy window, illuminating the unfinished prototype. Elias kicked a discarded metal plate across the concrete floor. The clang echoed in the oppressive silence. He’d poured years into this, refining the design, sacrificing everything. And now? A patent filed six months ago, exactly what he’d built, by some faceless corporation.

He slammed his fist against the workbench, the wood groaning in protest. He went to the fridge and grabbed a lukewarm beer. The taste was bitter, much like the lump forming in his throat. He slumped onto a stool, staring at the schematic drawings taped to the wall. All that work… for nothing.