Gemotions

"Forget it," Anya snapped, pushing away from her desk, the harsh fluorescent light reflecting the emptiness in her eyes. Her self-adhesive, reusable bandages, a project born out of her desire to help others, were destined to never make it to market. The patent had been rejected. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes. The computer screen, usually a source of inspiration, seemed to mock her. She got up and stalked to the window, the city lights blurring in the distance, a kaleidoscope of unmet expectations.