Gemotions

The patent application gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights of the library. It wasn't *his* name on the document. His fingers, suddenly clumsy, fumbled as he attempted to turn the page. A sheen of sweat coated his palms. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the texture of the strands doing nothing to ground him. He felt as though the world had tilted on its axis, and he was struggling to find his balance.

He’d poured years into this. Sleepless nights, countless prototypes, every spare penny funneled into his workshop. Now, the official stamp of approval belonged to someone else. A stranger.

He slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. His chest felt tight, constricted. He wanted to shout, to break something. Instead, he stood up abruptly, knocking his chair backward with a jarring crash. He quickly righted it, then walked out of the library at a hurried pace, desperate to be anywhere else.