Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

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A security guard in a grey blazer stepped out from the elevator alcove, his eyes fixed on my yellow folder.

“I designed the logo on your business cards, Sarah,” I said, but my voice felt small against the high glass ceiling of the lobby.

“Please, Mrs. Vance,” Sarah said, looking down at her keyboard. “Do not make this difficult.”

The security guard took continue reading …