Fighting Laryngitis

As a kid, I used to have this recurring nightmare; I was trapped in a burning house, flames silently pouring down every wall around me, and the heat making my skin start to bubble. I would always race to the single window on the second floor of a gabled house on a busy, steep, San Francisco street, rip up the pane of glass, lean out as far as I dared, and start to scream but not a sound would come out. I could hear the common sounds of the pedestrians below. I could hear the cars passing by. I could feel the pressure in my head as the breath forced itself between my tightened vocal cords but no sound would come out. I could feel that dull ache in the middle of my forehead as I pushed harder and harder to make a sound. I was desperate - soon to die as I felt the searing heat on the nape of my neck from my hair catching fire - unable to leap from the high second floor without falling to my death. And no one heard. I could see the tops of pedestrian heads but no matter how hard I tried to scream, no one heard. No one even looked up. And I’ve been without a creative writing voice for a while now. I’ve been knocked around a fair bit of late and I’ve sort of collapsed in on myself. And it’s felt a bit like that dream; all cerebral pressure and no sound. Granted, it’s rarely been as dramatic as the dream but I’m not a kid anymore. So, I decided to do something about it. And I’ve signed up to take a writing course. I figure, I’ll post some of that work or stuff that starts to occur to me. Regardless, I’m no longer that kid and I’m old enough to fight my laryngitis.