Banyan (Fiction Narration)

Profile photo for Montgomery Sutton

Montgomery Sutton

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Audiobooks
92
5

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)

Accents

British (General)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
wake up, wake up. Cannae was jolted awake by an unfamiliar voice. Have you seen my sketch pad? Woman can He sat and rubbed her eyes. What? Who? Who are you? The hyper man kept fussing about the room and rattled on Good Lord under one who drank last night while you slept and you can't remember me. Serves me right for letting a beggar sleep in my house. Rebecca can. I was confused and dismayed to find herself dressed in rags. I really can't remember who you are. I am Vincent. Good God, woman. The name is Vincent now. My brushes. He scratched his reddish brown, frazzled hair, glaring at her for not producing the brushes can. He scanned the room. She noticed some sitting on the night table, but he didn't seem to see them, can. He pointed to them those brushes. Vincent turned. Uh huh. He snatched the brushes and stormed out of the room. There was something familiar about the man, but she couldn't put a finger on it. She'd never met him before, but somehow she recognised his face Can. He had the front door slams shut and caught sight of him out the window. scrambling across the yard enough toward what appeared to be a market can. He rolled out of the rickety little bed and couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it. It was wooden and looked like it was made for a dwarf. Where in the world am I now? She sort of buzz and Neil as she looked out the window and up toward the radiant sonny blue skies. She knew they would make it back to Earth and cherish the wonderful friend she had made. Will they even remember me? There was nothing in the history books about anyone named Ernest being there. Who is that crotchety old man that just left her feet creaked on the wooden flooring as she proceeded to the master common room of the house. It was a mess. What a sty! She exclaimed, rather a post by the manner in which the house was capped. Clothing strewn about dirty china. This is on the table and art brushes and paints everywhere.