I had a soft, high-pitched voice, kind of breathless actually, but my Master thought that sounded sexy, so it was okay. I couldn't yell or anything, h...wever, because if I did, I'd lose my voice for two or three days just that quick. I had to exercise my vocal cords, or so the doctor had said, and he'd given me a little CD with exercises on it, sounds to imitate and words and phrases and just musical notes to hum along with.So I was humming and sort of dancing around naked because I'd gotten. I have been haunted by this same dream for as long as I can remember. Those words, spoken by a man I have never seen, echo in my soul.Once again, the dream faded quickly, its details evaporating from my mind like a wisp of smoke. Only the sound of his curse, uttered with a cajun twang, and laced with the poison of his hate, remain to haunt my day. That, and the eternal beauty of a woman whose smile is all that can bring calm to the tempest in my soul.They say that artists are usually tortured. More

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