text_original: It was late. An old moon, misshapen and pale, shone low down over a dark, rugged horizon. Clouds hid the stars. The desert void seemed weirdly magnified by the wan light, and all that shadowy waste, silent, lonely, bleak, called out to Allie Lee the desolation of her soul. For what had she been saved? The train creaked on, and every foot added to her woe.
text_transcription: IT WAS LATE AN OLD MOON MISSHAPEN AND PALE SHONE LOW DOWN OVER A DARK RUGGED HORIZON CLOUDS HID THE STARS THE DESERT VOID SEEMED WEIRDLY MAGNIFIED BY THE WANE LIGHT AND ALL THAT SHADOWY WASTE SILENT LONELY BLEAK CALLED OUT TO ALI LEE THE DESOLATION OF HER SOUL FOR WHAT HAD SHE BEEN SAVED THE TRAIN CREAKED ON AND EVERY FOOT ADDED TO HER WOE
phonemes: ɪt wʌz lˈeɪt. ɐn ˈoʊld mˈuːn, mɪsʃˈeɪpən ænd pˈeɪl, ʃˈɑːn lˈoʊ dˌaʊn ˌoʊvɚɹ ɐ dˈɑːɹk, ɹˈʌɡᵻd hɚɹˈaɪzən. klˈaʊdz hˈɪd ðə stˈɑːɹz. ðə dˈɛzɚt vˈɔɪd sˈiːmd wˈɪɹdli mˈæɡnᵻfˌaɪd baɪ ðə wˈæn lˈaɪt, ænd ˈɔːl ðæt ʃˈædoʊi wˈeɪst, sˈaɪlənt, lˈoʊnli, blˈiːk, kˈɔːld ˈaʊt tʊ ˈæli lˈiː ðə dˌɛsəlˈeɪʃən ʌv hɜː sˈoʊl. fɔːɹ wʌt hæd ʃiː bˌɪn sˈeɪvd? ðə tɹˈeɪn kɹˈiːkt ˈɔn, ænd ˈɛvɹi fˈʊt ˈædᵻd tə hɜː wˈoʊ.