Audiobook - Sylvia by Leonard Michael
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.
One evening, after another long fight, Sylvia went raging out of the apartment to taken examine Greek, saying she would fail. She had no hope of passing. She would fail disgracefully. It was my fault. I will get you for this. The door slammed. I sat on the bed, listing to her footsteps. Hurry down the hole and down the stairs. I was immobilized by self pity and, as usual, unable to remember how the fight had started or even what it was about, except that Sylvia was going to tell my parents about me and report me to the police. And she would do something personally to in a spasm of strange determination. I got up, went out the door and followed her through the streets to N Y u. I was stunned in blank but moving crossing streets, walking through the park, enjoying a crowd of students and entering the main building of N. Y. U. Following Sylvia down a hallway up a flight of stairs and down another hallway to her example, I stood outside the room and looked in. She sat in the last row in, hadn't removed her thin brown leather wrap around winter coat It's tall caller standing higher than her years. The coat was nothing against a New York winter. Sylvia thought. She looked great, work constantly, even on the coldest days she was bent, huddled over the questions printed on her exam paper, as if the exam itself delivered heavy blows to her shoulders and the top of her head. Her ballpoint pen clutched in a bloodless fist, moved very quickly. Her face closed to the page, breathing on the word she wrote. Five minutes after the hour, she surrendered the paper to a professor and came out of the room with a yellowish face, looking killed. When she saw me, he came to me without seeming in the least surprise and whispered that she'd been humiliated. That failed was my fault, but her tone was not reproachful. She leaned against me a little as we started away from the room. I could feel how glad she was to find me waiting for. I put my arm around her. She let me kiss her. We walked home together, my arm around her, keeping her born. Her exam was the best in the class, and Professor urged her to persist in classical studies she was pleased, more or less. But whatever she felt like the depth and intensity of her feelings before the exam, her pleasure of being praised had no comparable importance. No comparable meaning. Success wasn't herself. It had no necessity. Like the shape of her hands or needs didn't matter to her. She didn't always do that well, but considering how we lived, it was a miracle. She passed any course, should have no pride in your success and never exhibited any learning and conversation. Never referred to it. She was basically uninterested. Only performing academic achievements to her were an embarrassment. ID give 30 points off my I Q. For a shorter knows, nothing is wrong with your nose. It's too long millimetre too long.