A (very) Short Story
This past Sunday, I had the most unusual experience while walking back to my flat from church. Now, it’s important that I set the scene at this point. For the past two hours or so, I had been surrounded almost entirely by people speaking with an English accent. Whether listening to the sermon, or talking with people afterward, my ears were attuned to its particular cadence.
Returning to my story, I was about halfway back to the flat when I ran into a group of college-aged people, talking, laughing, and taking up the whole width of the sidewalk. I rather abruptly found myself stuck in the middle of the slow-moving group, and began to grow frustrated that they wouldn’t move aside and let me pass. It was then that I notice they all seemed to be talking with a very distinct accent. Curious, I began to listen in to see if I could identify it, and experienced a brief shock on realizing that the “accent” was American!
The entire experience, from running into the group to recognizing that they were American lasted only a few seconds at most. But for that short moment, I was in rather unique position of hearing what my own accent must sound like to others here.