Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Elias’s forehead as he stared at the cease and desist letter. His hands trembled, making the paper rustle like a dying leaf. He'd poured his life savings, every waking hour, into perfecting the self-folding laundry basket. Now, it was just…gone. Stolen, really. He felt a hollowness in his chest, a vacuum where pride and excitement had resided. He sank into his chair, the cheap particleboard groaning under his weight.

The clock ticked with agonizing slowness. He reached for the coffee cup, his fingers clumsy and unsure. He hadn't slept in two days, fueled by adrenaline and the desperate hope that he could still salvage something. His apartment felt cold, the silence amplified by the sudden absence of the whirring of prototypes and the clicking of 3D printers.