Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

warming my chin.

The eyes of the siren were mismatched.

The left eye was set three points lower than the right, a tiny, deliberate asymmetry that I had drawn with a triple-zero drafting pen on a Tuesday night in August.

I had done it because my own reflection in the bathroom mirror had looked that way after twelve hours under the fluorescent continue reading …