Historical Fiction - Irish accent
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
Irish (Eastern- Leinster, Dublin)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Nelly and Tilly found themselves squeezed in at a table seated opposite was a woman with her head bowed in prayer. A waterfall of jet black hair obscured her face. Dear Lord. She in toned Nelly and Tilly fell silent. Was that an Irish accent she detected? Wouldn't be the first she'd heard here today. Thank you. I guess for this disgusting excuse for a meal. Hi, Peggy. You Lord. Please kill me before morning. I eat this boiled sustenance and the hope that it is poisoned. Hopefully yours in heaven soon. Amen. She lifted her head and when she caught Nelly and Tilly staring at her, she grinned. Have to find my amusements where I can. Nelly would guess her to be a little older than herself and a lot more rough around the edges. You're new here. She said pointedly, oh, I'm Nelly. This is Tilly. She didn't introduce herself instead. She said with no small amount of sarcasm. Welcome to dinner at Blackwells. Please enjoy tonight. We have the finest prunes and by finest, I mean, revolting Tilly whispered. Nelly's stomach turned to look at them. This mysterious pink liquid is presented as tea, but I can assure you it is not tea. Prayer girl continued with her tour of their evening meal. Nelly stared down at the last thing on her plate. A slice of bread. She took a bite and gagged as the taste of rancid butter hit her tongue. You can ask for a slice of bread without butter. Prayer girl said, but can you ask for a slice without worms? Tilly held up her own slice of bread And even in the dim light, you could see them no longer squirming but baked to death. Nelly steeled herself only one week. She only had to survive one week.