I stood there, clutching the fake microphone. The words dripped out of my mouth like cold honey. I could not heat them up, no matter how much I tried. All of the energy I had left pooled in my feet, anchoring me down to sleepy depths.
To try to muster some energy, I started pacing, but the lights in the room reflected upon the words on my pages, making me feel that I couldn’t even see what I was supposed to be talking about. And the longer the cold honey dripped out of my mouth, my throat started to resist speaking. It starting to close like a flower at sunset, closing up shop. I coughed. And soldiered on.
how is she gonna get out of this one? spoiler alert: she doesn’t!!
