American Western Accent
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (General) North American (General) North American (US South) North American (US Western)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
We're two days west of a bump in the road called Stiff Neck, Texas. When Boone told me Shoes right, smart parts from the trail dust. That was the first thing, she said. Since the morning we rode out from that damn place and I knew Canteen wasn't empty because she wasn't talking about water. Tell the truth. I started when she said it. I've gotten used to the quiet for a second. I thought someone else had appeared out of thin air. Talked to me. There wasn't anybody else. Faras. I could see that part of Panhandle was flattering. The sun Big Johnny Cake on the Flush is part of God's green earth. Stiff neck might not have been towns proper name one called it down at all. I never did see a sign proclaiming its right name one way or another, but it was what Boone said it was called, and I saw no reason to contradict. ER, whatever the places written down as on map hadn't been. Hardly anybody left. When Boone and I arrived, Stiff neck had two problems. First, was railroad not come anywhere close to it, which choked a little settlement off from parts of Texas sat on the tracks. The other problem was cholera. There's evidence by a hand painted sign some enterprising soul would posting on dry earth at the easternmost edge of town. Get away, son. Read Sick town. Naturally, I voiced the opinion that we should ride around Skip stiff neck altogether call or a serious business in Texas seriously enough to have once killed hundreds in San Antonio, which was the largest settlement in the state of that time. Justice. Naturally, Boone was uninterested in my view on the issue, so he rode right in the middle of town. First couple locals. I saw both war copper charms around their next word off the play I got delish in. I had one, too. It was a charm and told me a couple things about stiff neck. These are probably Germans like my people were that the sickness killing them off wasn't typhoid or yellow fever or anything like that. I only knew about San Antonio. From what I'd read, my people came from someplace called Klein put Let's but I grew up in Arkansas now. I was riding into dine sick town with a tenacious woman who cared more about asking questions I didn't think would ever get answered. And she did about possibility, and neither of us getting out of town alive. I sort of missed Arkansas. Things tended to be calm and quiet. Back home. Thanks tended to make sense, couldn't often make much sense. Boone pitch up here, she said, gesturing toward the rail in front of a tumble down roof board, building a pass for a sheriff's office. I'll talk to the law. You go wait in yonder saloon for me, that's how it usually was with Boom! I was well past. Recommended should take me along whenever she went, pushing her weight around Time was, I figured, having a white man behind her and Leadsom gravitate to her demands. But that was before I really got to know her. Boone's free Antoine didn't need anybody's gravity, Anglo or otherwise. I said, Okay, start off, Palomino me, my paint. We went our separate ways from the boardwalk spot of water boil cross, Main Street side and sort of halfway behind two story house. Well, was built a sandstone. It was in bad state of disrepair. Dead mule ride had decided un molested by anybody like it wasn't a bother. I walked on until I came to Saloon, Boone pointed out, which is named Lucky Star. Sometimes optimism was the son of a *****. Some folks probably take a good look at the room when they walk into a public house. Just see who's sitting in there. And if there's anybody they know, my way was always. Keep myself pointed directly at the bar from the start, as such as a bit puzzled to find the bar inside. Lucky Star to be vacant, covered with more than one layer of dust. It was only then that I turned to glance around the place. There's only one man inside new staring right at me. I can pour your brandy if you're sick, Man told me. Black, Peper and Brandie. That's the thing. Won't save you, but it helps. I'm not sick, I said. I only just got here. Then you are a goddamned fool, he said. I was not particularly inclined to disagree. I did think Brandi sounds like a decent enough idea, though I accepted the recommendation, told him to hold off on the pepper Man, went behind the barn, located a bottle to his liking He blew some dust off the glass and poured three generous fingers. Porcelain in the drink. Cross the bar to me, leaving a trail of the bar dust.