this is my voicepublished: 2013-11-29
The young waitress had a high-pitched, squeaky, voice. The effort it cost her to speak was visible, her neck muscles were strained, the tendons pushed outwards. I watched her as she described in full what ingredients went into the soup. She did so without hesitation.
Someone at the other table asked, with a smile in his eyes and voice, “seems you had a heavy night out last night?”
This caused only brief irritation on her part.
“No,” she stated, “this is my voice.” And she went on to describe the rest of the dishes without so much as blinking an eyelid.
We all have a voice. So claim it.
Die laatste zin is wonderschoon.