Her throat was sore and hoarse. Nothing sounded the way she needed it to. Breaks and unplanned pauses destroyed her delivery. She pressed her hands against her cords, seemingly choking herself. Just warming her strings. Coaxing them to work for her.

Her frustration evident in her breathing. And she’s deciding whether to let it pass, or let the thrill overtake her – the mirror, her audience.

She decides to entertain, and coughs loudly while slapping the sink with her hands. Choking herself again while watching her eyes widen in the mirror.

She suppresses a smile and screams, pushing her voice against the restrictions and pain. Reaching a point of hysteria, she tastes blood and decides that her drama and play are over.

She quietly spits into the sink. Washes down the taste of iron and brushes her teeth. Getting ready for another night’s sleep.

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