Every couple of weeks or so when her husband can get her two young sons out of her Columbia home, Rhea Pechter sits cross-legged on her bed reading children's stories into a microphone.
"Remember, there are no pictures. You have to imagine the pictures in your mind," she narrates. "You can imagine them however you want."
She reads off a laptop resting on an overturned laundry basket covered with a quilt: "Is it morning already? Oh, I'm feeling rather unsteady."
Pechter tells the story as if sitting in front of a dozen children, the expression on her face moving from surprise to joy to sadness within the space of a few...