Gemotions

The patent rejection letter felt heavy, a brick in his gut. Elias crumpled it, the crisp paper crinkling under his shaky hands. He'd spent months, fueled by lukewarm coffee and frantic hope, building the prototype. Now, it was just…nothing. He kicked a discarded soda can across the cluttered workshop floor, the clang echoing the hollowness in his chest. His reflection in the dusty window showed a man defeated, shoulders slumped, eyes devoid of any spark. He hadn't shaved in days. What was the point?