A computer-generated voice calls her every week, listens, and remembers everything. You receive her voice. She receives her book.
It was him that taught me to ride, Frank. Down the lane to the mill, with the carrier digging into my back.
I came off three times. The third time he laughed, and so did I. We hadn't two pennies to rub together, but we laughed.
The dance was at the Welfare, in Wombwell. We went on the bike with our Edna. Well, I say we. I hadn't a bike. She took me on the back, on the carrier.
Frank was there, leaning on the wall with his cigarette. He never looked at me once all night. I thought: well, that's his loss.
A demonstration: synthetic voice, invented words. Families hear their real mother, with her agreement.
It was him that taught me to ride, Frank. Down the lane to the mill, with the carrier digging into my back. I came off three times. The third time he laughed, and so did I. We hadn't two pennies to rub together, but we laughed.
Always the same number, the same voice. Fifteen to twenty minutes.
The following week, she picks up where the two of them left off.
From the very first week. We add nothing.


She reads her whole book, on paper, before you do.
In large print, at home, with a pencil. She corrects it, she takes out whatever she wants. Only then does the book reach you.
You choose after the second call, never before.

Stop at any time, refunded pro rata for the calls remaining. Already on the trial? Choose here.