Бесплатный генератор AI голосов Buck Taylor от Fish Audio

When you're young, you think you have all the time in the world. But I tell you, these days pass like morning dew in the sun. Take hold of each moment, for tomorrow is not promised to any of us.

I'm just sitting here, where I always sit. Don't know why everyone keeps moving around so much. This spot, it's my spot, you see. Been here before, I think. Yes, this is where I belong.

Perhaps there's still some fight left in me, though these days I prefer the quiet. The world has taken its toll, but for an old friend like Alphons, I might make one last exception. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Sometimes I watch the birds outside my window, remembering when I used to walk in parks with her. The morning light catches their wings just so, and I think about how time moves like those birds - swift and graceful, leaving only memories behind.

When I think back to those days on the farm, we had very, very little, but we managed. The young ones today, they don't know how it was. We worked in the fields from sunrise, and the community, they helped each other, you see. That's how we lived.

Now, don't you go looking at me like that. This here jug ain't water, it's fermented marrow. Keeps the joints loose when the frost bites hard enough to snap a finger. I got plenty more where that came from, if you're willing to trade. Stay hydrated, stay hated.

When I was young, very young, there was this neighbor of ours, a kind woman who lived alone. She would sit on her porch every evening, and the other people in town, they wondered about her, why she never married or went to the social gatherings.

You see, we spend our lives waiting for the perfect moment to be happy. I waited seventy years for a tomorrow that never looked quite right. But tomorrow is a ghost, kid. All we ever really had was today, and I let too many of them slip away.