Gemotions

The deadlines pressed in on him. Daniel ran a hand through his thinning hair, the gesture a habitual attempt to soothe the tension. The air in his workshop was thick with the scent of solder and burnt plastic, a familiar, unwelcome fragrance. He hadn't seen the sun in days, it seemed. The project, a miniature automated greenhouse, had consumed him. He longed for the simple, uncluttered joy of a quiet evening.

A knock on the door, a hesitant tap. It was Sarah, his project partner, her face a mask of concern. "Did you see it?" she asked, her voice hushed. He knew what she meant before she could finish.

He just sighed, a sound that carried the weight of a thousand lost nights and countless setbacks. On their shared cloud drive, a file had appeared. Identical plans, the same complex circuitry diagrams, the same innovative water management system. Another miniature greenhouse, built to the same specifications. He felt as if the air had been sucked from the room.