Fiction, 1st person Narrator, Southern US accent
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) North American (US South)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the clock on the wall was not my friend and I swore when I realized that it was almost midnight, No one would be a way to loan me about. My neighbor, jude would be ****** at me, but I just have to take his and apologize later. Extreme situations called for extreme measures and all that. And this was an emergency. I raced out of the house, the screen door flapping closed behind me and crept back behind jews house. His boat was more to the little dock in his backyard, welcoming me. I knew he kept the key in the shed by his back porch. So I crept over and opened the door as quietly as I could feeling around for the hook. I snatched the key and took off running out to the boat just as I heard jews back door open. What the **** are you doing? The angry voice of my nearest neighbor Bello. Through the night. I'm sorry jude. It's an emergency. I have to get the boys, they've got my boat and they're in trouble. I untied it and started the motor almost in one fluid motion, and gunned it away from the dock. When are they not in trouble? Come on scott. This is theft. I'm bringing it back, jude. That's not theft, its borrowing. I'll make it up to you. I swear. He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at me. It looks so fume and I could see it in the pale light cast by the sliver of the moon. I debated offering a friendly wave as I turned the corner on the little waterway behind our house is venturing farther into the swamp, nah, that would only **** him off an apology. And I played a freshly baked chocolate chip cookies would probably be a better way to restore our neighbourly harmony. I'd worry about it tomorrow. I switched on the spotlight at the front of jude's boat and shivered as the illumination immediately caught the eyes of a big gator. The night was as thick, hot and damp as I'd ever felt it and I navigated the tall grass, cat tails and murky water with the skill of someone who had been doing it all her life. My warren t shirt quickly soaked through and stuck to my body. The song of chirping crickets and croak in bullfrogs was accompanied by occasional house and grunts. The night melody of the bayou. It would have been peaceful if not for the deadly predators that awaited those foolish enough to be out after dark. The swamp was beautiful at times, with its thick cypress trees and hanging moss, a lush presence that took you back to another time. No matter how many Walmarts and Applebee's sprung up in other parts of the world, out in the bayou, you felt like you've been transported back to prehistoric times.