Monika looked around her work space, and sighed. Fix this seam, bead that neckline, complete this dress, finish that waistcoat, it was seemed like an enormous pile of work. But she wouldn't trade it for the world.
She sat down at her desk, lit a candle, and went to work on the beading. Sure there were machines that could probably do it for her, but she preferred to do it by hand.
She felt the gaze of the doll in her corner, and Monika hoped that her mother's voice would ring clear from the radio. She had no such luck.

















