Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Elias’s forehead as he stared at the patent number. His own design, meticulously crafted over years, now just a ghost of an idea. A hollow ache settled in his chest, mirroring the vast emptiness in the workshop. He ran a hand through his hair, the metal shavings sticking to his skin a mocking reminder of his failure. “Damn it all,” he muttered, the words barely audible. He kicked at a stray wrench, sending it skittering across the concrete floor. The echo of the impact was the only response.