Our world is nothing more than a mosaic,
Of tiny lights,
Of tiny lives,
Of tiny stories.
A rough illustration for Marke's 'Tired' text.
I love this story, the way that it can keep going round and round but only figured out that it reminded me of a zoetrope yesterday - so here it is.
Standing in the cold,
He'd dressed for the occasion.
Waiting in the cold,
The occasion never came.
Double-page size.