When she ordered books she gave one name, when she ordered food she gave another. She gave a different name again when meeting friends, and had another reserved for family. There was one she used only for book clubs, but many for when she went dancing. And one or two, slotted between, which she gave only to police.
She always paid cash; she possessed no credit card.
It was not easy to keep track of so many identities, but she managed. She did not see that she had a choice.
The list grew longer and longer, like a scroll in her head, and on her deathbed there was great confusion as everyone remembered somebody different, somebody more like themselves.
WHERE IDEAS ALIGHT. A HAVEN FOR SHORT STORIES, SKETCHES AND OTHER TINY STUFF.
This idea came from a typo on my grocery list. Then I decided to play with it in different media; an artistic frenzy, if you will.
From left to right, top to bottom: ink, Prismacolor, Staedtler Triplus, watercolour, Photoshop, Staedtler Triplus/Tombow.
What I’ve been seeing; what I’ve been hearing.
Another Lynda Barry ‘Syllabus’ inspired cartoon: a record of one day.
(Obviously I am not very good at shaving.)
Feel like one last sweet treat to farewell Easter?
Try listening to my short story, The Master Class, read by Holly Myers, as part of Quart Short Literary Reading Nights.
Something is not quite right at this bakery…