the vibrations carried through the air like so many tiny beads of spittle, projected into the atmosphere and eventually, my very personal space, resonate in my brain. the quality of her voice is shrill, forceful and assertive, yet indecisive and in some ways timid, like an angry teen trying to argue a point that has been only half-formulated, yet is adamantly defended to the last breath (if, for no other reason than it is her point).
i've never met anyone so determined to be right that they sound so wrong.
she is broken. my whistling will not fix her.
