Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

it.”

“Yes,” I said.

“They say she made millions off it,” he said.

I took a small sip of the hot coffee, the dark flavor bitter and thin on my tongue.

“Not millions,” I said.

“Still,” he said. “Must be nice to see your name on every street corner.”

“You do not see the name,” I said. “You only see the drawing.”

“I guess so,” he said, turning continue reading …