Yesterday our Wakwaku narrator had a slight cough. If she were human it wouldn't have bothered anyone, but her perfection made it incredibly noticeable. She always stands on her mark on the stage, toes 1.5 inches apart, tilting her head in time with her speech, delivering her narration in a pleasant and sweetly dramatic tone, like a mother reading a story to her children. Everything about her is gently appealing and impecable.
But yesterday she had a cough. In between two words which always flow seamlessly together, she tilted her head to the side and cleared her throat, begging the pardon of the audience of 5th graders. The shock through the orchestra was palpable. We hadn't known she was capable of such a human action.
And today, she was gone. Another woman was in her place.
I have no evidence for the causation of these events, but I've noticed some throat clearing from our conductor.