Ian King - AUDIOBOOK Reel
Description
Read MoreVocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (General) New Zealand Scottish (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
inking audiobook riel. I love Poem, along with a photograph, was found in a bottle entangled in the club of seaweed on the sandy beach. It was discovered by a surfer in meddling. In Southampton, New York. David Hamilton, a young teenage surfer, and his girlfriend were walking along the beach and found the French letter hand written on a paper and dating back to April 14 1912. All right, then I'll take you. But watch your back, Morgan. Just watch your back. Back. I think I can take care of my own back. Thank you very much. Now where to? His arm hurt, but he didn't let it show. They bound his hands with the route from the waggon where Goto have to unhitch the waggon. That Reid, it'll be quicker. Suzy, are you up to it? I think so. At you Filth. You could write the Clyde stale year. But you haven't heard what really happened. I'll get over it, man. Let me tell you a storey from around here. And so it was my turn. I told Shane about the man that was pushed off the mountain just above our farm. I told him how some of the neighbours had heard his cries and how he was screaming out. OK, I said, not wanting to take any chances on missing out on everything that my life could become. Suddenly a voice cried from above Hope. Good, Davey. Good Davey. I felt my heart beat into my mouth wildly. What? Davey? I breathe. The sea eagle got him. The voice cried. See? Suddenly the voice broke. Had it got him, too? Are feared. My heart was beating faster. Still, as I gazed up at the towering stacks of empty turtle shells before me, I hesitated, feeling the excitement of freedom and death, tugging at my insides like a motherless child. This old planet no longer interests me, she used to say to her friends, the giants off the mountain, the men upon it still live with their eyes shut. Poor things. I pity them. I go down among them now and then, but it is not of charity, but to try and save the little Children from the fatal misfortune that awaits them in the darkness