6 - DRAMATIC IRISH Haunting Celtic Galway accent Acting Atmospheric Brooding Spiritual Rugged Manly



A Galway man tempted by youthful beauty ruminates on the is-ness...of it

Vocal Characteristics



Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)


British (General) Irish (General)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Connemara wallflower. She sat on that grey Connemara wall, air blowing, gesturing with petite forefinger, Do you see? Like over beyond the waves. Storm coming in. Yeah, I see it. All right. Shall we shelter? She mimicked me in her fragrant English accent, smiling at me. How awfully I say shall we catch her? She sells sea shells on the shall we shelter, I say I'm amused, but self conscious bit heart. The first drops of rain had reached us a fringe beginning to stick to her for it. Her arms are outstretched now, gesturing for me to help her off that long I'm taller than her. Her skin is pale with a trace of freckles and her eyes are clear. Emerald attend her face Up to me is the first clap of thunder across the bay Her sweet young arms and twine my back and her hands dig into my arms sweater. Her smile is come on. But she is nervous of the thunder and slightly apprehensive. She is signalling permission and wanting my place one hand to delicately atop her head The rain the stronger now spattering are sizing up. I am hard and she presses into me yet I feel her warm breath and it sets off something as it mingles with wet countryside smells. She is delicate. And why did she plays the woman? She is a guard, a woman of 18 or 19 our soul. Her blouse now is pink white. As the rain pelts us, I see her red lips are thiss garden. Tempting me not so long ago, was holding a teddy. Her mother was washing her hair, her father's pride. He'd worry over her and possibly is. At this moment, her temptation is mixed with fragile vulnerability, which the ancient Celtic gods of this rugged yet fertile place have decreed mine for the taking wind howls through us. Bending are into me. She is someone's daughter. They have to admit, very beautiful again. Tent or angels face up in May. Yeah, I like her smile. It awakens freedom and youth and possibility and me. It is chemistry, and it is important. Mix this horse this weather gently. I touched the drops from her face, glancing my wedding band as I do. She snuggles in more, and my instinct is to protect this young woman's awakening occurring in my arms. So the cost is coming now. The moment is having its colours of varying use materialise. She is still signalling surrender. But her stillness is being absorbed. She is condensing these colours in tow her being May they serve her well. Come on, you. I say I'll get you back to the coach where your college friends are waiting for you. Guide The latter years round, aka Condom Arnon She walks away, wilting but growing. The storm has passed.