Mystery 101: Inside the broken mind of Anthony Levin

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Taylor Stevenson

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Description

I wrote this excerpt from a non-existent fictional piece. It follows Anthony on the edge of a breakdown struggling with responsibilities that are way outside of his comfort zone. In this piece, I've used two North Eastern accents (Tri-State Area).

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Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)

Accents

North American (General) North American (US New York, New Jersey, Bronx, Brooklyn)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Anthony paced around his office clumsily gripping his head, his fraying auburn hair screamed out from between his stubby tense fingers. I just I can't, no, no, no, no, no, not like this. No way! His phone vibrated violently, throwing itself off the desk. Anthony stopped, stood straight up, pathetically mashing his hair back to some kind of order. He bent down towards the phone with his eyes squeezed shut and without even looking he answered the call Anthony. What are you doing? You don't call me no text, no, nothing. You don't talk. I mean what is this? It was Ari again. He let the silence hang just long enough for him to realize actually, Anthony was having an all out meltdown. Anthony now slumped over in his black cheap fake leather office chair with lumbar support, gazed at the floor with an empty stare. Ari Ari, This is not gonna work. This is not something I can do. I'm going to tell you. Please do not call me again. Lose my number, lose my name and you know, thanks for everything Anthony through the phone across the room he could just barely hear Ari blathering on. Nothing mattered. He was done. He scooped up his trench coat and clutched his dark brown fedora on his right hand. The gold from his wedding band gave a shimmer of light to his otherwise dull attire. He swung open his office door and flung himself down the hall. He stood at the stairwell door. He stared at it. He leaned in closer to it, pressing his nose up against it, letting his coat and hat hanging, his limp arms swaying.