Gemotions

The blueprints slipped from Elias' trembling fingers, scattering across the workbench. He had spent months, if not years, in his garage, fueled by coffee and the singular vision of his musical instrument that would change the world. It had been his father's dream, too. He felt a thumping in his ears, a loud, insistent drumbeat that drowned out all other sounds. He bent to pick up the papers but then straightened up slowly, his body motionless. The air in the garage was suddenly too thick to breathe. "No," he muttered, the word a soft puff of air.