COMING SOON
My mind races to keep up with my nervous energy. Shut inside my shabby den I wade through a sea of discarded papers that are covered with disconnected words and drawings. I fight the urge, but deep down I know there's no hope. I know that I have no choice. I eagerly turn to the only thing that can possibly save me...which is, in turn (but not so eagerly), the same horrible thing that haunts my every dream, that tortures my trembling soul. I clear away a spot on my ancient, rickety table, un-cap the bottle and before I know it, my pen has been dipped and quenched with ink. In a blur, I cover more pieces of paper with disconnected words and clumsy drawings, and more, and more - never satisfied - never pleased - always humming - and more, and more...until finally I grow exhausted and fall asleep in the entwining spirals. Somehow, after a few hours or days, I become awake. After a brisk shower and shave, my servants dress me in a fresh tuxedo. I make my way to the 4th floor balcony where I deliver brilliant speeches to great throngs of adoring citizens. Later I cook gigantic bowls of Ray's chili for the Little Brothers of the Poor and teach French Horn to angry seamstresses. And...oh yeah, then I remember that It's time to quit goofing off because, jeesh...I've got Gosling Brother comics to draw! Who the heck do I think I am, and do I have all day?!
Sin Sara Leigh
Rowboat Loose
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