Inexplicable Pronunciation Novels & Stories

Elaine frowned and grunted, “Where did you learn how to pronounce my name? It’s not accurate at all! My name is Elaine, not Elang. Say it again for me!” “What...?” The African woman did not understand the Oskian dialect at all. She had simply learned the sentence ‘Hello, Elaine’ from the others, but her pronunciation was not as proficient. Now that Elaine was speaking in the Oskian dialect in front of her, she could not understand anything Elaine was saying at all. When Elaine saw the African woman staring blankly at her, she could not help but mutter, “What’s the matter with you? Can’t you hear that I’m talking to you?”

“Why is your name spelt Caius but everyone pronounces it like ‘Cay-us’?” Caius kept scrolling through his phone now instead of reading. “Because people are stupid.” Miguel’s eye twitched. “You insulting us. That’s not an answer,.” “It is.” Miguel walked closer until he stood beside the bed now. “So how do you actually pronounce it?” “However you want.” “That’s even more annoying.” Caius finally glanced up lazily. “You’ve been saying it wrong too.” Miguel frowned. “…Then say it properly.”

Alec, Kris, Bear, and I sat near the back of french class, barely keeping it together. Kris was the only one who wasn’t struggling. He had this uncanny knack for getting every pronunciation right, even with the most tongue-twisting words. I slouched in my chair, staring at the chalkboard. The teacher had written a list of words, each more difficult than the last. “Oeil,” “Bouilloire,” “Rouge-gorge.” She was pacing in front of the class, listening to us mangle each one as we tried to sound them out.

In the Council rotunda, she spoke Marcus's own language, reading aloud the clauses he had written with his own hand. The two interpretations sounded almost identical in the ancient pronunciation, differing only in the length of a single prefix vowel. The long vowel meant "inherit." The short vowel meant "be deprived of." Marcus had chosen an ambiguous vowel between long and short, placed perfectly within the sentence to be masked by the suffix vowel of the preceding word. In legal terms, this was the deliberate exploitation of the vowel merger that occurred during the transition from ancient wolf tongue to modern common speech.

to see". It can be various belief systems, religions, ideologies, and science. Example sentence; It is illuminating just to know Ambassador Hugo's energetic conclusion and then move slowly into its utopian dimensions of Maharliakas' Weltanschauung." There's a problem in the sentence. How dare they call this a utopia when it's a dystopia? Now, the big problem was that I can hear a "V" in its first letter. Pronunciation might be deceiving! And the tone, morphology, phonology, phonetics! But I think we are included in the "Spell" category today. I know there's a G on its last letter but I don't want to die. I don't want any of us from District G to be eliminated.

I gasp, marveling over just how much I have revealed to him. “Anytime I need a laugh, I only have to remember that story and it cracks me up!” he chuckles. “You British people. Why spell something one way and pronounce it another? Why would Worcestershire be pronounced Wu-stuh-shuh anyway? Or Leicester pronounced Leh-stuh ? It makes absolutely no sense.” “Take it up with the early Anglo-Saxons. I’m just the son, luv!” By now, he is laughing so loud, we are drawing curious glances from other people in the train.

Like the calm before unimaginable chaos. "Evelyn?" The priest called my name again as the voice which was stuck in my throat was released. I took a deep breath and said farewell to my dreams and the thoughts which were impossible and now became truly impossible. "I do.." My voice came out like a vague whisper. "I pronounce you as husband and wife." And here I am officially becoming Mrs Evelyn Lawrence Bayford. Becoming Mrs. Bayford with the most unexpected person. I don't have words to explain how I feel burning, a strange sensation I cannot encrypt. How I was coming here just to catch a glimpse of him and now I am the wife of his Brother.

I like an element of danger in my lovers, and he just seems, well, safe. Devona and Gareth spend some time talking in a language I cannot quite understand. It almost sounds like English, but not really. Only some of the words made sense. I took a class once in Middle English, the language of Canterbury's Tales, but that sounded almost French, this sounds older. The sounds are all coming from the back of the throat like they might start choking any minute. I don't know why I'm sitting here analyzing their pronunciation when I cannot understand a damn thing this man is saying. He keeps looking at me, longingly, like he's trying to say something to me. I wish I could understand what he's trying

Hearing this question from her, although they sneered at her for acting like she could answer it anyway, they had to admit that it would be to their advantage if that was the case. “Ah! Yes, ma’am. Can you give us a clue?” Majority of the class agreed and so the teacher obliged them. “Ready now..” Evelyn Vargas began mentioning the words, trying to use the correct pronunciation with each one, which made most of the students confused.They may have encountered some of these words in writing but have not paid attention to how it should be pronounced. Sometimes the words were even using silent letters or it was just unimaginable that it was pronounced that way. She also included words that have

I pick up the book on the table “I can read the letters, but there are some words I don’t know.” I find the page from before “Like here, I can’t read this word, nor do I know what this means.” “It’s old language, after all.” Zen peers on the page “Can you read the letters? Maybe I could help, My Lady.” “Hmm, I think it’s,” I test the sound in my head “Face-tious!” He glances at me in a way that tells me I’ve butchered the pronunciation. “Alright, the spelling,” I ignore the warmth of my cheeks and tell him the letters