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Summary of Elisabeth Tova Bailey's The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating
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- FormatePub
- ISBN8822552739
- EAN9798822552739
- Date de parution29/07/2022
- Protection num.Digital Watermarking
- Taille1 Mo
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurA PRECISER
Résumé
Please note: This is a companion version & not the original book.
Sample Book Insights:
#1 When the body is rendered useless, the mind still runs like a bloodhound along well-worn trails of neurons, tracking the echoing questions: the confused family of whys, whats, and whens.
#2 I had been moved to a studio apartment, where I could receive the care I needed. My own farmhouse was closed up.
I did not know if or when I'd ever make it home again. I had to close my eyes and remember the early spring there. #3 The snail continued to explore the sides of the pot and the dish beneath, and I was amazed by its leisurely pace. I wondered if it would wander off during the night. But when I woke the next morning, the snail was back up in the pot, tucked into its shell, asleep beneath a violet leaf. #4 I was not at home in the white studio apartment where I was staying.
I was far from the things that delighted me, the wild woods that sustained me, and the social network that enriched me.
I did not know if or when I'd ever make it home again. I had to close my eyes and remember the early spring there. #3 The snail continued to explore the sides of the pot and the dish beneath, and I was amazed by its leisurely pace. I wondered if it would wander off during the night. But when I woke the next morning, the snail was back up in the pot, tucked into its shell, asleep beneath a violet leaf. #4 I was not at home in the white studio apartment where I was staying.
I was far from the things that delighted me, the wild woods that sustained me, and the social network that enriched me.
Please note: This is a companion version & not the original book.
Sample Book Insights:
#1 When the body is rendered useless, the mind still runs like a bloodhound along well-worn trails of neurons, tracking the echoing questions: the confused family of whys, whats, and whens.
#2 I had been moved to a studio apartment, where I could receive the care I needed. My own farmhouse was closed up.
I did not know if or when I'd ever make it home again. I had to close my eyes and remember the early spring there. #3 The snail continued to explore the sides of the pot and the dish beneath, and I was amazed by its leisurely pace. I wondered if it would wander off during the night. But when I woke the next morning, the snail was back up in the pot, tucked into its shell, asleep beneath a violet leaf. #4 I was not at home in the white studio apartment where I was staying.
I was far from the things that delighted me, the wild woods that sustained me, and the social network that enriched me.
I did not know if or when I'd ever make it home again. I had to close my eyes and remember the early spring there. #3 The snail continued to explore the sides of the pot and the dish beneath, and I was amazed by its leisurely pace. I wondered if it would wander off during the night. But when I woke the next morning, the snail was back up in the pot, tucked into its shell, asleep beneath a violet leaf. #4 I was not at home in the white studio apartment where I was staying.
I was far from the things that delighted me, the wild woods that sustained me, and the social network that enriched me.
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