Novel & Cerita How To Describe A Voice In Writing

I took off my aids and clutched them hard in my palm as I tried to gather as many sounds as I could from around me. The window was open to allow fresh air into my apartment and I could feel a cool breeze blow in my direction but I couldn't hear it. The faucet in the kitchen never fully closes so the drips of water were silent to me. The television was on but the sounds coming from it were almost phantom-like and it suddenly felt lonelier this warm afternoon. "I wish Michael was here," I said but I couldn't hear myself like I used to before my hearing became impaired. "I wish Michael was here!" I yelled as loud as I could but my voice sounded like it was said by someone else at a distance. Th

It was as if James had physically appeared in this place, yet at the same time, it felt like the scene was merely unfolding within his mind. At this moment, the mysterious voice resurfaced. This voice echoed in his ears and reverberated deep within his mind. James could not find the right words to describe this voice. He had no idea what it truly was, but he could sense that it was deep, profound, and seemed to traverse the vastness of time. It was as if it had existed for time immemorial. Soon, the first voice ended. However, the second voice rang out not long after. The second voice was much more distinctive. It sounded like the crying of many infants and the chanting of countless monks. T

I'm glad I saw him before I heard his voice, I'd never have put the two of them together otherwise. His voice was like the magma chamber of a volcano, deep, but filled entirely with the molten rock. His voice could be powerful enough to make your bones feel like they were vibrating. When he spoke, everyone would turn, whether they knew him or not. His voice was just so deep, so full...

he bellowed, the raw power of his voice echoing through the darkness, sending shockwaves through the air. My own voice quivered, a fragile thread of sound that struggled to find its footing amidst the chaos of the moment. "Th-that, I th-think I pressed it, mistakenly," I stammered, my words hanging in the air like a fragile confession, barely audible above the tumultuous symphony of emotions that surrounded us.

The air became charged with anticipation, the very atmosphere shimmering with the intensity of our connection. Levi's voice, like velvet caressing my senses, reached my ears, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. It was a voice that held the power to awaken every nerve ending in my body, drawing me into a world of irresistible temptation. With each word he spoke, a symphony of emotions danced through the air, capturing my attention and igniting a fire within me.

His hand rode up to my cheek, up to my eyebrow, and caress it sluggish to my eyelashes. I squinted my eyes and briefly sniff his essence into my core. "And your lips taste so... so... sweet, Lissa." My heart hammered vigorously against my chest. Wanting to escape from his trap but I couldn't deny the fact that I was enjoying him. Every damn utterance he made was dealing with me lovingly. My body paralytically stayed put to feel him even though he didn't touch me yet. How could this man have different layers of voice which he used interchangeably at every course of moments and feelings he found himself in? Just now, his voice has become soft like a loaf of bread and filled with fervor as if h

His body had made, without the instruction of any visible thought process, the particular and infinitesimal adjustment of a thing that had found its orientation. He had not looked at her. He had gone on talking to Richard and the woman from the board. But his body had known she was there. I thought about Lena's voice. This one was harder to characterize and I had been characterizing it for longer without arriving at the accurate description, the particular and elusive quality of a voice that changed in a way you could not locate in any single feature of the voice, not pitch or pace or volume, but in something underneath those, in the specific and foundational quality of a voice that was diff

My voice was careful, tentative, but audible, carrying a small fragment of defiance. A pause stretched in the air like static, the kind of silence that makes your ears ring and your thoughts race. Then came the voice, distorted, mechanical, altered in a way that made it almost unrecognizable. It slithered through the line, rough and eerie, carrying a malicious intent that crawled under my skin. “You shouldn’t be eating ice cream,” it said.

"I heard this voice inside my head, Sarah…" Now that I was no longer in front of so many people, the force of the shock was almost to the point of being overwhelming. "A voice?" Her eyes widened. "Your wolf?" "No," I shook my head immediately. "It was different. This one sounded lighter…I-I can't explain how different, but I just know this wasn't my wolf!" Was there a proper way to explain what I was hearing? How do you describe a voice in your head without sounding like a crazy person? I didn't know…but whatever it was, I knew this wasn't the voice of my wolf…it was something else. Something I've never heard before.

I cleared my dry throat and began. My voice was rough and fractured at first, sleep-thick and stumbling over the print. But within a few paragraphs, it smoothed out, finding a steady, comforting cadence. Kain didn't listen to the plot. He listened to the rise and fall of my voice, the slight, soft pauses at the commas, and the quiet inhalation at every period. It was as if he were using the sound to build a wall between himself and whatever was clawing at his mind. Gradually, his hands stopped shaking against his knees.