My voice went recently, never happened before, off like a tap. I had to sit in silence for nine days, chalkboard around my neck. Like an old-school mime. Like a kid in the naughty corner. Like a Victorian mute.
“I run; I am a coward at heart. I swear, when I smell violence or aggression the coward comes out in me. I have no desire to fight anybody except myself.”
“I smell of sweat. I don't like people smelling of all these weird things. I think deodorant is disgusting.”