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Final Run of Flagler's Folly- English. Professionally read & recorded.

Not Yet Rated
Voice Over • Audiobooks


This book was written by me and read by me in a professional recording studio. I have since adapted it to a screenplay as well.

Vocal Characteristics


English (North American)

Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Chapter 40 8:50 p.m. Monday september 2nd 1935 30 minutes after landfall of the labor day hurricane camp, number five. Lower Matecumbe key. I'm telling you. The storm is passing, said the youngest soldier in the room with them again. He had been repeating this same annoying mantra for just about the whole time. They had been cooped up in a small place happily though for the first time all night. Bill actually agreed with the kid. Hey, Bill spoke quietly at 1st. Hey, this time he raised his voice, grabbing everyone's attention. I think Newbie might be right this time the young kid winced at the annoying nickname even though it wasn't meant as an insult, it's still graded on his nerves. I know I'm right boss. The kids response showed his annoyance clearly as he emphasized what he considered to be the derogatory nickname for his superior and he was rewarded with the soul, satisfying proof that he was indeed correct. Bill shot the kid a dirty look. He did hate the boss moniker almost as much as he knew. The kid hated being called newbie. No one else cared at that moment. The room was basically quiet as the storm continues to rage all around them. But now it sounded more like any other tropical storm that might have bombarded their little spit of land on any other typical day. The rain still slashed and the thunder still rumbled, but it was different. Now it was less fierce. It felt less deadly. Bill gazed upward, evaluating whether or not the storm was abating. Then he turned to look at the men in the room who are all looking at him. He let a small smirk of a smile come unbidden to his mouth. He knew it was not a time to smile. How could he allow himself to rejoice when so many have been lost? But he couldn't help himself. They too could have been dead. They too could have been swept out to sea. But they weren't. They were alive. They had survived. There would be time for grieving for their fellow soldiers and friends later. But right now he couldn't help but smile. Neither could his comrades. They were going to live.