4.7
Skáldsögur
“I scoop the doll off the floor. I make reborns. Dolls that look like newborn infants. The point is to make them look almost, but not quite real.” An affecting tale of the struggle to retain one's humanity in the face of societal breakdown. With the population sliding toward unemployment, homelessness, and desperation, one woman ekes out a living fashioning “reborns” for clients of a particular taste.
© 2012 W. F. Howes Ltd (Hljóðbók): 9781471209079
Útgáfudagur
Hljóðbók: 1 oktober 2012
4.7
Skáldsögur
“I scoop the doll off the floor. I make reborns. Dolls that look like newborn infants. The point is to make them look almost, but not quite real.” An affecting tale of the struggle to retain one's humanity in the face of societal breakdown. With the population sliding toward unemployment, homelessness, and desperation, one woman ekes out a living fashioning “reborns” for clients of a particular taste.
© 2012 W. F. Howes Ltd (Hljóðbók): 9781471209079
Útgáfudagur
Hljóðbók: 1 oktober 2012
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