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2680825Letter from Yesterdayhttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/letter-from-yesterday-9798201168964/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/3358970/b20ba974-7dbf-49a8-a27d-24c470b66f38.jpg?v=6383852606967700006161MXNGeoffrey AngapaInStock/Ebooks/<p><em>A woman stood in the doorway, a faint light in the background outlining her form. She inclined her head, as if she would speak, but no words came, except a low, drawn-out sigh that, pitifully, faded with time. I heard the drop of a tear on the floor. She turned, her countenance concealed in shadow. A step forward and then another. "My love," she said, her voice touching the corridors of memory. I rose from the bed. She took a step closer. "Why do you weep? Our child needs you."I said her name"Shh," was her only response, placing a finger on my lips. Now I felt her in my arms; smelt the faint scent rising from her skin; felt the tenderness and swelling passion of her heart. Now she was fading; I clutched sadly, but resignedly, knowing the outcome, and the form melted away into the mists of time. I kissed her hand, softly, whispering her name; she faded and was gone. Despair took me and no sleep came.</em></p><p>Andrew lives in totalitarian City-9, where the rain never ceases, running a bookshop with his daughter and struggling to make ends meet. All goes on its usual dreary course, until a mysterious woman, whom trouble seems to follow, appears out of nowhere.</p><p>(Some content not suitable for children.)</p>...2616726Letter from Yesterday6161https://www.gandhi.com.mx/letter-from-yesterday-9798201168964/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/3358970/b20ba974-7dbf-49a8-a27d-24c470b66f38.jpg?v=638385260696770000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20219798201168964_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_<p><em>A woman stood in the doorway, a faint light in the background outlining her form. She inclined her head, as if she would speak, but no words came, except a low, drawn-out sigh that, pitifully, faded with time. I heard the drop of a tear on the floor. She turned, her countenance concealed in shadow. A step forward and then another. My love, she said, her voice touching the corridors of memory. I rose from the bed. She took a step closer. Why do you weep? Our child needs you.I said her nameShh, was her only response, placing a finger on my lips. Now I felt her in my arms; smelt the faint scent rising from her skin; felt the tenderness and swelling passion of her heart. Now she was fading; I clutched sadly, but resignedly, knowing the outcome, and the form melted away into the mists of time. I kissed her hand, softly, whispering her name; she faded and was gone. Despair took me and no sleep came.</em></p><p>Andrew lives in totalitarian City-9, where the rain never ceases, running a bookshop with his daughter and struggling to make ends meet. All goes on its usual dreary course, until a mysterious woman, whom trouble seems to follow, appears out of nowhere.</p><p>(Some content not suitable for children.)</p>9798201168964_Geoffrey Angapalibro_electonico_47c3d4cd-130f-3e04-b97d-94010aae8842_9798201168964;9798201168964_9798201168964Geoffrey AngapaInglésMéxicohttps://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/draft2digital_ipp-epub-c6f31f67-c138-4ef5-bfc0-4742e146d9d9.epub2021-05-28T00:00:00+00:00Geoffrey Angapa