Gemotions

The air in the lab was sterile, antiseptic. Robert clicked his pen incessantly, the sound a sharp counterpoint to the hum of the equipment. He reread the competitor’s patent application. The drawings, the claims, each a jab at his pride.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a sensation that made it difficult to breathe. The prototype sat on the bench, his creation, now rendered obsolete.

He stood, pacing the small room, his footsteps rapid and erratic. He knew he should be thinking of a way to fight it, but the energy was gone.

He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to erase the sting of the news. The disappointment, he realized, was crushing.