Let's go with: voices.
It was a chilly, rainy day here but that didn't stop us from getting the remaining cabbage, broccoli, and cauliflower transplanted into the garden. Not much choice, really, as it was badly in need of doing and at this point we can't afford the luxury of being delayed by inclement weather.
Tomorrow isn't meant to be much better, but then the sun and heat are scheduled to return for a lengthy visit starting Saturday.
At the moment I'm patiently waiting for the neighbour's dog to bark himself hoarse.
Okay, not patiently at all.
He follows instructions very well, the report concluded, but rarely displays any leadership skills or initiative. Not likely to advance beyond the lowest levels of the organization but will be a reliable foot soldier.
Robert crumpled up the paper and hurled it against the wall. His eyes locked on the dinner table across the room, its surface decorated with fine china and two bottles of red wine. He was halfway to the table with every intention of overturning it when he came to a sudden stop.
"Childish," he said, his lips hardly parting. "Won't change anything." A firm shake of his head set his long hair to swaying. "No, of course it wouldn't."
He had to do something, though. But what? It had to be dramatic. And satisfying. And send a clear message to those who were blind to his greatness - this was the most important factor.
"Yes, of course," he declared nearly an hour later, finally moving from his position in the middle of the room. "That's perfect. Thank you."