Gemotions

"I… I didn't see it," Mark stammered, his cheeks burning with shame. He'd poured his heart into this, a voice-activated prosthetic limb. The realization – someone else held the patent – hit him like a physical blow.

He looked at the blueprints, now reduced to a worthless stack of paper. He felt suddenly ill. The image of the other inventor, probably a corporate giant, flashed in his mind, and a sense of bitterness crept through him.

He was the one that understood it, the one who wanted to make it affordable, for people like his uncle, who lost his arm in the war. He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back. He needed air. The air in the room felt too thick, too heavy.