her headdressa towering mass of feathers, bones, and colorful beadscaught the spotlight first. each feather seemed to quiver as if alive, while beads clinked together with every movement. a shawl of animal pelts draped across her shoulders, her arms bare, adorned only by intricate tattoos of unfamiliar symbols snaking down her skin. her eyes were closed, lips moving in a chant that only the front row could hear at first. the audience was paralyzed, unsure of how to react. was this a keynote speech? a performance? some cutting-edge blend of art and spirituality? no one knew for sure. the womans eyes fluttered open. her gaze swept across the audience, a smile slowly creeping onto her face as though she could sense the confusion. then, as if to further stoke the fire of bewilderment, she coughed. not a polite, under-the-breath cough, but a loud, guttural hack that echoed through the chamber. she inhaled deeply and coughed again, expelling her breath into her cupped hands. the panelistswho had once been stoic in their well-tailored suits and subtle displays of powershifted nervously in their seats. elon musk, sitting in the front row, leaned over to his companion and whispered, looks like elizabeth warren after a spirit quest.
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