Craig MacNeil Audiobook Excerpt
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
he stops to fill the fuel tank of a combination service station and convenience store that, with a house behind it, stands alone at a crossroads a few miles short of warm springs. The gasoline at the two pumps is an overpriced brand he's never heard of, and the building housing the store is fissured pale yellow stucco with a blue ceramic tile roof with his old life in ruins behind him and his new life with Meghan still far away in California Shack, it has been in a foul mood since leaving Cedar City mile by mile, the arid Mojave leaches out of him. What little human kindness has not yet been drained away by the endless injustices he has suffered. The gas pumps aren't as old as the fossil fuel they provide, but the art of a generation that reads credit cards. He goes into the store to provide the cashier with his Nathan Palmer visa to activate the pump. The man is evidently the owner and shack. It despises him. On site. He is old and fat. He wears khaki pants with suspenders, a white T shirt and a narrow brim straw hat, which seems like a costume as if he is playing at being a desert bumpkin after shack, it fills the tank. When he returns to the store to sign the visa form and get his card. The old guy says, Beautiful morning. Isn't it hot as a furnace shock? It says, Well, you're not from here to us. It's a mellow morning. How do you know I'm not from here? Senior plates when you pulled in there? Not Nevada looks maybe more like Montana as shack. It signs the form. He says nothing. He concentrates on the signature because for a moment he forgets the name that's on the credit card. He almost signs Lee shack it. Something is wrong with his mind. Only 82 degrees three cashier says. That's cool for these parts this time of year. Shack. It gets the Nathan Palmer right. He meets the old guys eyes. What parts are you talking about? Your private parts excuse may excuse you from what Cashier frowns and slides the visa card across the counter. Well, you have a nice day shock. It doesn't understand the anger and contempt he feels for the stranger. It scares him a little and is irresistible excuse you. From what? Shock? It asks again. This geezer pisses him off with his phony howdy neighbor style. Did you fart? Excuse you. From what the cashier breaks Eye contact. I didn't mean no offensive. Did you offend me, sir? I truly don't believe I did. A buzzing arises in shock its head as if a hive of wasps has taken residence in his cerebellum. That's what you believe, is it? The cashier looks at the window toward the pumps, maybe hoping another customer will drive in. Nothing is moving out there except a cloud shadow that slides a measure of darkness along the highway. The old guys tension. His unexpressed fear excites shack it. Do you have a core belief? He asks as he takes a candy bar from the display on the counter shack. It himself once had core beliefs. A sense of limits. He's sure of it. He just can't remember what those limits were. What do you mean? The old man asks Well, like Do you believe in God? Yes, sir, I do. You do? Yes, sir. Where is God Shack? It asks stripping the rapper of the candy par and letting it fall on the floor. The old guy meets his eyes again. Where is God? I'm just wondering where you think he is. God is everywhere. Is he over by the cooler with the beer in the soda pop shock, it takes a bite of the candy bar. Choose it twice, then spits the sticky lump on the counter. This thing tastes like ****. It's a decade passed the expiration date. What's your God think of you selling **** like this? Doesn't he notice? Where is he? The cashier looks down at the credit card processor. I run your card. It's Elektronik. Over the phone is how it works. The number of name. They're out there at Visa already. He's telling Shack it that if something mortal happens here, there's proof that Nathan Palmer stopped for gas around the time that it all went down. But of course, shack it is not Nathan Palmer