The voice from on high

Normally the voice that makes the announcements on the metro is throaty, sometimes mumbling without distinction. It’s a cliche that no one understands what he says. Tourists make fun and wish they were back at home where they could drive and be on their own schedules.
One time the conductor spoke in a deep, knowing voice — there were delays. Suddenly a scratchy violent scream came over the intercom. I jumped, because it sounded like a monster was eating him; he was yelling for his life. Everyone else stared out the window blearily.
Then today it was a girl who spoke. Her voice was small and warm. Our train started moving but it halted, and we hovered silently over the landscape, frozen on our way into the city.


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