The darkness that settled on Camp Ramshackle has lingered despite my flippant remark that I felt we were recuperating or, if you believe in a jinx, because of my flippant remark. It feels like the red demon above took up residence in my throat & pulled my voice down to the lower regions of Hades. I've gone four days without being able to speak. I take it as a forceful reminder to listen more and speak less.
I keep hoping that tomorrow my voice will be back. Perhaps my voice has been on a Dantean journey and is ready to scurry past Cerberus. Maybe it will be back tomor... oh, I'm not even going to write it.