A Child's Christmas in Wales (excerpt)
Description
Read MoreVocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
It was on the afternoon of the day of Christmas Eve, and I was in Mrs Prospero's garden, waiting for cats with her son Jim. It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas. December in my memory is white. As Lapland, though, there were no reindeers. But there were cats, patient, cold and callous, our hands wrapped in socks. We waited to snowball the cats, sleek and long as jaguars and horrible, whiskered spitting and snarling. They would slink inside alot over the white back garden walls and the lynx eyed hunters, Jim and I. For Capt. And Marcus and trappers from Hudson Bay off Mumbles Road would hurl are deadly snowballs at the green of their eyes. The wise cats never appeared. We were so still Eskimo footed Arctic marksmen in the muffling silence of the eternal snows, eternal ever since Wednesday that we never heard Mrs Prospero's first cry from her igloo at the bottom of the garden, or if we heard it at all, it was to us like the far off challenge of our enemy and pray the neighbors, polar cat