Sounds take on a different texture. They seem richer and more varied. The wail of a police siren was deafening when it cut across a conversation; now it interrupts my thoughts pleasantly, as a logical punctuation to my train of thought. I listen to the siren pass, then carefully step back into my thoughts. The bark of a dog, the rustle of the trees, the squick of my wet trainers on the pavement: all these things are the soundtrack to the world, which human conversation does nothing but drown out. Words do not add anything useful.on losing my voice for a fortnight
Their solace was then interrupted by a knocking at the door. Sylvia didn’t hesitate for a second to answer wearing nothing but her undergarments. The hotel attendant at the door was as shocked as Athen to see her standing there, even in near total darkness, with the door wide open.
“Ma’am,” he said, “We are passing out candles for your inconvenience. We hope the power will return shortly.”
“Can we have two, please?” she said. “This room really calls for two candles, don’t you think?”
“Well, yes, ma’am. I suppose.”right now at this very moment
Her faces and moods, like her wardrobe, changed weekly, if not daily. Flared jeans for one date, an Armani suit jacket for the next; a D&G dress for one, then Nikes and slacks for another. And when she talked to people from different backgrounds, although she did not like to admit this to herself, her market research experience helped in discussing the things they liked. She knew, for example, that E34's used Ecover washing powder and supported Greenpeace, and that F41's liked Star Trek: the Next Generation and read Harry Potter even though they didn't have kids. It wasn't that she was two faced; if anything she was 82 faced, or 34 four faced, that being the number of lovers she had in her twenties, as was fairly normal for people of her type at this point in time.the 82 types of person in the world