Gemotions

The silence in the cramped apartment was deafening. He sat at the kitchen table, the patent denial letter a crumpled heap in front of him. The unfinished dinner on the stove had long since grown cold. He ran a hand over his stubble, the rough texture a stark contrast to the smooth, clean design of the patented device he'd so meticulously crafted, only to find it already existed. The relentless cycle of disappointment had left him feeling hollow, a shell of the excited inventor he once was. He pushed the plate away, the simple act a monumental effort.