Sarah tobor

‘In the quiet comfort of a suburban home, there she is—Mrs. Tobor, your next door neighbor in rural Alaska, a woman whose presence is as soothing as a gentle breeze. Her green dress flows like a field of clover, and her smile is a beacon of warmth. She moves with the precision of a Swiss clock, her every gesture a testament to an unseen perfection. Her cookies? Divine. Her hospitality? Impeccable. But behind those sparkling eyes lies a secret as intriguing as it is absurd—she’s a robot. A flawless, blissfully unaware automaton of domesticity. Her laughter is programmed for joy, her kindness a feature, not a flaw. She doesn’t know, of course. To her, life is a series of perfectly executed tasks, each one a testament to her ‘humanity.’ While she whirs softly in the kitchen, baking cookies with the care of a master artisan, she remains oblivious to the wires and circuits beneath her skin. She’s so charming it will make her the most charming, homemaker you’ll ever meet.’