Fantasy/Mystery Audiobook Narration
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
any child can be chased by their shadow. All they need to do is run straight toward the sun on a lazy afternoon, as long as they keep moving, it will be right behind them and they can even turn around and try to chase it. But no matter how fast they're chubby legs pump, their shadow will always be a little bit out of reach. Not so with this child, he runs across the yard dotted with dandelions, giggling and shrieking his fingers close on something that shouldn't be solid, something that shouldn't fall before he does onto the clover and crabgrass, something he shouldn't be able to wrestle with and pin in the dirt. After sitting in the mossy, cool beneath a maple tree, the boy sticks the tip of his pen knife into the pad of his ring finger. He turns his face away so he doesn't have to watch. The first poke doesn't go through the skin, the second doesn't either. Only the third time when he presses harder, frustration. Overcoming squeamishness, does he manage to cut himself? It hurts a lot, so he's ashamed of how tiny the beat of blood is that wells up. He squeezes his skin to see if he can get a little more. The drop swells, he can sense the shadows eagerness. His finger stings as a dark fog forms around it. A breeze comes shaking loose. Maple seeds. They spiral down around him, cop to ring through the hair on their single wing. Just a little drink every day. He heard someone on the television say about their shadow and it will be your best friend in the world, although it has no mouth and no tongue and there is no wetness at its touch. He can tell it's licking his skin. He doesn't like the feeling but it doesn't hurt. He's never had a best friend before. Still he knows that they do things like this. They become blood brothers, smearing their cuts together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. He needs someone like that. I'm Remy, he whispers to a shadow and I'll call you red.