thing 1
Your voice was normally in perfect tune, and you enjoyed being part of your band that was hired on a weekly basis. It paid well, and you even had an upcoming gig today. But there was a slight problem.
You tried to sing, and all that came out was a raw gasping sound that sounded like a kitchen drain. There was this creeping feeling that was haunting you for weeks, starting out as a slight thing you could shrug off, and turning into a disastrous bubble in your throat that could be career suicide.
The gig was in twenty minutes, and you were panicking. You got out of the car and arrived at the rather plain venue, sitting down and opening a root beer you kept in your bag to calm your nerves.
You retched as soon as the root beer entered your mouth, standing up and vomiting, your vision dotting with a million colours you had never seen before. You first, shaking and wiping your mouth, nearly letting out an exclamation of surprise when you see that a diamond fell out of your mouth.
