Gemotions

He sat on the park bench, the setting sun casting long shadows around him. His shoulders slumped, the weight of the news pressing down on him. The patent denial lay crumpled in his pocket, a symbol of his dashed ambitions. He rubbed his temples, a futile attempt to alleviate the throbbing ache behind his eyes. He thought of all the sleepless nights, the sacrifices he'd made. He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. A hawk circled overhead, its cry echoing his internal dismay.