Silent Night. Holy Knight.

© 2014 by Karen Friday

“S-i-l-e-n-t night . . . all is calm . . . .” (Calm? No. But very quiet.)

I sipped on herbal tea with honey and fresh lemon. Under the canopy of a bath towel, my face hovered over steam rising up from the sink.

Unable to squeak out a single word. Laryngitis had set up residence in my vocal cords. Late into the silent night, I was trying every known home remedy. On my umpteen cup of tea, I knew I could not outwit this condition. I was at its mercy.

My voice went on a short vacation and didn’t ask me for permission to leave. The nerve! Why the uneasiness? I had a job interview the next morning. How could I possibly introduce myself?

It’s no secret. I’m fond of talking. Me and words are BFFS (best friends forever). ‘Verbose’ should be inscribed on my forehead or near my mouth. (Rest assured of my family’s reaction to the period of silence: “Praise God from whom all blessings flow!”)

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