Profile photo for Larisa Moldovan
Not Yet Rated


Circe by Madeleine Miller
Chapter 1

Vocal Characteristics




British (General)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
when I was born, the name for what I was did not exist. They called me names, assuming I would be like my mother and aunts and 1000 cousins least off the lesser goddesses. Our powers were so modest. Tickets. Carsley insure our eternities. We spoke to fish and nurtured flowers, Coke's drops from the clouds or salt from the waves that word news based out the length and breadth of our futures in our language, it means not just goddess but bright. My mother was one of them, a naiad garden of fountains in streams. She caught my father's eye when he came to visit the holes off her own father. O'Shea, Yannos, Helios and Oceania knows, were often at each other stables. In those days, there were cousins and equal and age, though they did not look it. My father glowed. Bride is just forged bronze, while Oceanic owes had been born with Rio me eyes and a white beard to his lap. Yet they were both titans and preferred each other's company to those knees. Quicken gods upon Olympus, who had not seen the making off the world. Oh, Shanice is palace was a great wonder, said deep in the earth's walk. It's high arts. Holes were gilded, the stone floor smoothed by centuries of divine feet through every room ran the faint sound of all she anuses river, source of the world's fresh waters so dark you could not tell where it ended. And the rock bed began on its banks. Grass in soft grey flowers and also the unnumbered Children of oceanic. Those nights and nerves and river gods autor sleek, laughing, their faces bright against the dusky air. They passed golden goblets among themselves and wrestled playing games off love in their midst. Outshining old at Lily Beauty, said my mother.