In the kitchen, unfashionable crockery is wrapped hastily in newspaper and placed in boxes labelled CHARITY. Dad detonates a swear word from the cupboard under the stairs. Uncle Charlie retches violently as he scrubs mould from the corner of the bath. No one...
David has waited a very long time to see this illustration, he sent me his story back in January! But its been a very difficult one to consider because he does not directly mention the birds. So in the end I opted to try and create something full of menace and threat.
Once upon a hushed moonless night, a Queen in a far away land gave birth to her fourth consecutive daughter. The King loved his wife and daughters, but was troubled without a male heir, as to who should rule at the end of his reign.
They called him crow. Those lackwit boys at the Conservatorio, Paolo and Riccardo. Tenors with sugared voices and decayed souls. Mocking his voice, his corvid croak. Mocking his pain. The fire. His parents. His sweet little sisters. The door that just wouldn't open.