Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

preceded bad news. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and looked down at his plate of cold fries and saltine crackers.

“You need to let the archive go, Martha,” he said. “The agency owns those files. It is standard industry practice.”

“My hand drew the original siren, Arthur. You know the exact kerning I used on the lettering.” I took a sip of water.continue reading …