Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Mark stared out the window of the diner, the neon glow of the sign outside blurring through his tear-filled eyes. He’d spent his entire savings on this project. Years of research, late nights, countless failed attempts, all for… nothing. His self-warming jacket, his innovative design, patented by a competitor before he even knew they existed.

He could feel a throbbing behind his temples. His knuckles were white from gripping his mug too tightly. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a sensation akin to something heavy pressing down on him.

He pushed his untouched plate of pancakes away. The world outside, usually vibrant and full of potential, now seemed muted, colorless, and hostile. He wished he could just disappear.