You want to keep talking, but the receptionist says that she doesn’t trust language because it inhibits her to say what she really means. You’re' not precisely sure what she meant by that.

“Some things are lost in language,” she says, and her voice is made out of air.

“Like what?” You ask, and your voice dies like a love affair. With your hands in your pockets, you suddenly realize something is missing but you don’t know what.

“The voice is a sound with a meaning,” she chants.

“OK,” you say. “Said who?” She ignores your question and as she continues, her voice is slowly fading away.

“It is nurtured by the soul that lives in the cavities in the body of the speaker.” "Are you OK?"

He will instantly stop typing on his keyboard. For a moment, he will just sit there, observing his frozen hands. Then he will look up, and to your surprise, he will look calm. Is that a smile on his face?

You will want to assure him that you have no intentions to... but you will not be able to formulate the thoughts in your head, let alone speak them out loud.