The following is a piece from a writing group where we're given a prompt and then nine minutes to write whatever comes to mind. Just for fun, I'm posting some of them here:

Prompt: The Sound of Your Own Voice

It seems to be relatively unanimous that as humans, we all hate the sound of our own voice when heard on a recording. The voice inside our own heads is so much smoother, more assertive, sexier, etc., than the sound the rest of the world hears. If only everyone else could hear the way my voice sounds in my own head, we all think, I'd have to hire bodyguards to help fend off the suitors.

But why do we all hate our own voice? Is there an evolutionary reason? Thousands of years ago, when we lived wild and naked and free in the bush, was there a survival reason for developing this distaste for one's own voice? A prehistoric predator, perhaps, that would learn your voice and mimic it to lure you in? Some sort of giant venus flytrap or vicious species of parrot that, upon perfecting its impression of you, would call out in your voice and list off all of your deepest darkest secrets, your hopes and dreams, like so many mythical creatures in fantasy lore, and if you rose to the bait you'd be eaten?

So that millenia later, we are all descendants of the select cave women and men who had a genetic predisposition towards thinking of their own voice as nasally and annoying, and who therefore survived long enough to procreate without being eaten by telepathic demon parrots?

Or is it perhaps just jarring because it's not what you're used to? Nah. It's gotta be demon parrots.