This is a biography read in a laidback, conversational, believable, real person style.
English (North American)
Middle Aged (35-54)
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
mom's words echoed in my ears. Don't go anywhere. You're the man of the house, look after Wayne. I was four years old and Wayne was my little brother. Mom often went out at night and left us. She stuffed a packet of cigarettes in her handbag and locked the door behind her. The moment the key turned in the lock, the house seemed bigger and shadows watched from the corners of the front room. I'm hungry, Wayne would say moments later, and we'd walk to the kitchen where I take out pieces of bread and rummage through the kitchen cupboards, looking for the brown sauce. If we were lucky, there'd be enough sauce to smear a thin layer on each slice. If we weren't, I'd scrape the inside of the lid and put it on Wayne's bread only we'd sit on the stairs and eat fast, then lick our fingers. I'm still hungry. Wayne would say me too, I reply, but often there would be no more bread so we'd go upstairs and play to distract ourselves until I thought it was time for us to sleep.
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