Gemotions

"Another round, please," Mark mumbled, his voice thick with a weariness that went beyond mere fatigue. The bar was dimly lit, the clinking of glasses and the boisterous chatter of patrons a cacophony that grated on his nerves. He'd been so sure, so convinced that his foldable, solar-powered charger was unique. Now, it was just another item on the market, mass-produced and sold by a company that didn't know the first thing about the passion that had driven him. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the taste of it doing little to soothe the tightness in his chest.