Short Story Reading
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) North American (US South)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Alec Wick supermodel. Once upon a time, there was a girl named Alec who would stop by a mango tree to get a snack on her way home from school in Alex Village. There was no running water nor electricity. She had to walk to a well for drinking water, but she and her family lived a simple and happy life. Then a terrible war broke out, and Alex life changed forever. As the warning sirens wailed over their village, Alec and her family had to run away from the fighting. It was the rainy season the river had flooded. The bridges across it were underwater, and Alec could not swim. She was terrified of drowning, but her mom helped her to cross safely to the other side. Along the way, Alex Mom traded packets of salt for food and passports because they didn't have any money. They managed to escape from the war and made their way to London. One day, she was in a park when a talent scout from a famous modeling agency approached her. He wanted to recruit Alec as a model. Alex Mother did not want to hear about it, but the agent persisted and she finally agreed. AL equipped so different from any other model that she instantly became a sensation. Alec wants every girl on the planet to know you are beautiful. It's okay to be quirky. It's find of Isha. You don't have to go with the crowd. Born April 16th 1977. Sudan. When beauty shines from within, there could be no denying it. Alec Quick When Fireworks Go South By Rick Bragg Southerners, I believe, should not be trusted with fireworks. It is not in our blood. The North had most of the artillery. The South, which does not always think things through, entered the war, believing its officer class could merely hurl mint juleps at the encroaching Yankees and glare. Insolent Lee, the gallant John Pelham, Robert E. Lee's vaunted canon ear may have been the last Southerner to be truly trusted with a lit fuse. Since IAM, there has been a long line of Southerners who, like bottle rockets with a camel non filter and shoot for the moon Onley to see the projectiles blaze ankle high through the Johnson grass, scorching cats and burning worms. I love my own people, but you know there is truth in this. Even when we're sober, bad things happen. Even when we do everything right, things can still go wrong. Take the case of poor Rob Roy, a suicidal, wire haired Jack Russell terrier and Valley Head Alabama. He had a short tail on the Fourth of July. About 10 years ago, it got some shorter memo named all her dogs. Rob Roy, said Elizabeth Manning, a graduate student at the University of Alabama. I'm guessing this was Rob early Number two. This fourth began like most with the lighting of short fuses. At dusk, all the women would sit up on the porch and all the men would go into the field in front of the house and shoot off fireworks. My Uncle Jeff was firing off one of the prettiest ones, and he had it lit in a backed off. Rob, really, who had a reputation for biting wheels on cars, ran to it and it shot off right before he got there. A spark got caught in his tail, which began to smoke. Rob really ran in wild circles as Jack Russells are bred to do so fast that the flock of grandkids on his tail could not catch him to put it out. He finally just set down and dragged his but through the grass, Elizabeth recalled. Memmel just watched. She is 88. Well goosey, Gander, goosey, gone. She likes to say I myself and careful when it comes to fireworks. Before inserting an M 80 into a bit of fire ants, I followed careful safety protocols. Number one Twist together to M eighties for more holy smokes potential number two Giggle Number three Run! I am qualified to open on fireworks because the gallant pill, um, killed by the Yankees as he tried to rally his troops is buried in the hometown of Jacksonville, Alabama. His statue gazes down upon us and on the loading dock of the old TG and wow, I have always believed the fourth because of all the booming. That go zone is also a celebration of his life, though he was fighting to dissolve the union and all but every year, as the sky feels with fire, I wonder what he is thinking probably dug in my hometown. We go to the field besides state to before said, our lawn chairs up in the back of my brothers pick up and watch the falling dusk transformed through the miracle of gunpowder. Or if I'm on the gulf, we watched the colors rain into mobile. They I think, some years ago I would like to shoot one last bottle rocket into the dark, though I am too old to run away. But at least if my tail where to set on fire, I would be easy to catch and put out.