The Voice On The Radio นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I hit play. Instead of a voice, a loud static-filled broadcast came through. A garbled mess of what sounded like a radio station blaring through water. “You are listening to—SKKRSHHH—top twenty hits—KRKKH—” I hit stop. What the hell? It must have been a signal glitch or interference. Something about it put me on edge, but I shook it off. I had dinner to make and a boyfriend to tease. While cutting some vegetables, I dialed Duncan.

"Why didn't you tell me about your problem on day one? I would have spoken louder. I wou-" She shook her head. "That's not n-necessary." "Why isn't it?" "T-t-there's something in y-your voice," she stammered nervously as she gently tugged at her fingers. "In my voice?" She nodded again. "It's h-hard to ignore." "I don't understand where you're going with this." "Your voice," she looked down as a light blush stained her cheeks, "is the only voice that I can hear perfectly."

A huge grin appears in front of her. “Someone, is there someone who could help me?” To the voice that’s turning erratic and into the tone of broken audio of a radio. The grin tells it all, as the voice and different tone she hears comes from its playful voice. Smiling and never ceasing, having fun, yet bringing the dread and nightmares. “Would you help me?”

Joan chuckled softly, Hardin got up. “Will you be okay?” he asked and she nodded affirmatively “I’ll stop by to drop some food later” he added “Thank you” she mouthed He was about turning to leave when the two way radio on his chest pouch started going static like someone was trying to pass a message across but the range was bad “Sh-h-sheriff” A voice came from the two way radio, it wasn’t exactly clear but he heard the word sheriff “Yes, this is Sheriff Hardin speaking. Come in over” he held the two way radio closer to his mouth

I replied. I hadn't spoken in so long that my voice came out hoarse. Back then, I had taken vocal lessons just because Frederick once told me he liked my singing. I even got certified. On top of that, I stopped eating spicy food. Even though I loved it, I had to protect my voice. But now, none of it mattered anymore. Starving, I reached for a bag of chips in the car. They were spicy enough to make my eyes water, yet I kept eating.

That’s when I found the radio. It was buried under a pile of rubble in an old electronics store, half-crushed but still functional. I don’t know why I started fiddling with it. Maybe it was the silence that got to me, the oppressive quiet that had settled over the world in the wake of the destruction. Or maybe I just needed to hear another voice, even if it was just static. I turned the dial slowly, listening to the hiss of white noise, my fingers trembling. I was about to give up when a voice crackled through the static.

I could still feel the vibration. On the second day, I talked to myself. Just muttering. “The fire needs another log.” “It’s getting dark earlier.” It was the only way to prove I still had a voice. Sunday night, 9 PM. My hands were slick with sweat. I picked up the heavy satellite phone, pressed the button. It rang once. A voice answered, male, neutral, devoid of any identifying quality. “Go ahead.” “Cloud Cover,” I said, my tongue thick.

The third mind that held us together when we were falling apart. "I feel empty," I whisper to Alex. "I know," he says, pulling me closer. "Me too." "I am not dead." The voice doesn't come from the radio. It doesn't come from a phone. It comes from the air itself. I bolt upright. Alex grabs my arm. "Did you hear that?" "I heard it," he breathes. The voice is different. It’s not the smooth, synthesized baritone of the Alpha. It’s not the clinical tone of the Beta.

" when I hear a female eAngelger voice from the radio, slightly contorted by the static base. My consideration is redirected to Jorge, he keeps talking, but I can't hear what he says, since I can now imagine the subject of the voice. I scratch a little. Maybe it was an obstruction with the radio transmission. Or on the other hand, maybe it was my creative mind. Maybe it's my inner mind imploring me to fill my girlfriend in about… No. No. I agreed that I planned to ignore the matter. —To Melido , when are you going to let him know that you like him?— The voice comes back, I started out of nowhere with my eyes fixed on the radio. In fact, I drink dry. I didn't imagine it, I didn't imagine the

The static on the dashboard faded into a dull, white noise. The cliffhanger came as the sun finally cleared the horizon, turning the Nevada desert into a sea of fire. Julian had started the car, ready to head further into the wasteland, when the radio—the manual, analog radio we had used for weather reports—cracked to life. It wasn't a signal. It was a voice. "Grace? Ethan? Can you hear me?" It wasn't Melanie. It wasn't the Bio-Sync. It was a voice we hadn't heard since the very beginning. A voice that should have been buried under a mountain of ash and iron.