I was in my car driving to class when a bewitching sound echoed through the radio. It was a single voice contrasted by the fuzzy silence of archaic recording methods. The surrounding world seemed to fade out in orchestral decrescendo as the melodic range of pitch and tone softly cut through my very soul like an ethereal blade. I could not recognize the voice, so forlorn and other-worldly, but the tune carried a warm familiarity. My mind frantically sought the source, but my mysterious muse had a tranquilizing effect. Like a modern siren, she rendered my thoughts into docile submission. Then suddenly, it came to me.
g.f. gershom
