Voices.com Sample
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
neither My name's Steve Douglas and I'm going to be doing a very brief reading of a poem submitted Teoh all poetry dot com in 2012. The name of this is called One Minutes. Unspoken Desires. It was 1 59 AM on a Saturday morning when Friday was beginning on its neighbor shared appointment. Outside was a severe storm, powerful and booming, that kept the bar's patrons from leaving. But in spite of the harsh conditions of that night into the bar walked in a woman tall, slender, with dark hair that seemed to flow effortlessly and she moved. Each step caused vibrations like circles in a puddle but spread across the room, touching every man's heart with drops of infatuation. No words, no faces but hers and I just that followed her every movement. As their fingers pressed upon the counter, the bartender hesitantly turned to her and Pollen's. The woman slips, able to consume the very soul of a man open at that instant. It was a zip all of heaven's song with the voice of absolute mint intricacy, indescribable beauty, a brandy, said the woman who lit up the stars each word ago. Throughout time and space as she spoke it, pausing time for only a single moment so that nature could listen. The Earth student place on is that every patron present in the bar. It was a Ziff life had been gifted piece by the essence of this one woman, her Evan glow cast its light on all that would be a shadow illuminating every corner of existence without a second despair. Not a moment toe waste. The bartender disappeared below the counter, presently returning with the bottle of 10 years age, call Munich. The woman positioned her glass, the bottle tapping its crystal. It rang with the sound so graceful and charming that the tone seemed to silence all of life itself, even if only for that, so that it's crying. Joy would be heard. He poured. She waited. Suspense, bone chillingly cold. Sunk into the skin of the seven Spectators is if they were witnesses to a game of life of death, she held. The glass, still unwavering is the board tend to return the bottle to the shuffle of the counter. Then, with a fluid motion, the woman pressed her lips against a fine rim of a glass and as she kissed it, slips out of the glass, flowed all of its splendor in one small city. She lowered the class and turned her face to her attentive audience, of which every members said, speechless in shock. How moved her? I stripped it from one place to another. Aware of her influence with the utmost care, she collected the remaining flavor from her lips with a single artistic stroke of her silk rose petal town. Almost immediately after the woman's tongue, it retreated back behind the rose lips from which it emerged. The harmonic beauty was broken. The tranquil essence shattered is one man walked through the bars, glass doors, eyes hidden by the brim of a black Jackson fedora. A thick trimmed moustache veiled his upper lip, connecting with an equally thick beard but incompetence, the remaining area of his mouth. All eyes were now in the bars. Newest visitor silhouetted by the early morning's dark, moonlit sky. The man raised his own just above this, Jackson letting his fingers drop to the hat stop, his hand closed on the tip, taking it off and placing it on the side of his waistcoat upon the man's face, rested the eyes of a martyr cold, broken and terrified by the woman need now student front, Up with this right arm he reached for the woman's hand, her fingers slipping between hiss. She closed her like grip around his skin. And so the two remained as they walked off into the darkness. The beautiful morning sky. The man and the woman stepped through the bar doors. The clock struck in the bell, rang throughout the room. It was now 2 a.m. and that waas one minutes Unspoken desires once again. This is Steve Douglas. Thank you so much.