Umasabirah - These Are The Things That Keep Me Up At Night...

Project: Akimoto

I was hoping to have this be a new print to sell at AZCAF last week…but then I had to go and catch COVID.

Anyway, enjoy the latest designs for Archanger, Jillian Akimoto and her alter-ego, Cutie Mask!

The Alley

Jana had taken this shortcut through the alley hundreds of times. She knew which backyards could be seen clearly along the dirt path and which ones were hidden by tall fences. She knew which yards contained loud, barking dogs and which had friendly cats that would welcome the occasional ear-scritch. She had memorized the careful placement of trash-cans, and the neighbors who would spend the evening on their back porch, greeting her with a friendly wave. Not only would this particular shortcut save her a good twenty minutes of time, it would take her far from the busy road she lived on. On the sidewalk by that road, she faced regular cat-calls and inappropriate offers that made her shoulders shrink and her insides squirm. The alley had always been her friend, her ally, her quick path to her own lovely backyard. In her head, she could already see her back gate, hear the rusty creek of its hinges, smell the scent of elder-flowers wafting from the large bush by her kitchen window. 

Something was different about the alley this evening, though. She felt sinister, unseen eyes lurking in the shadows that awaited her, causing her stomach to flop and the fine, blonde hairs to raise on her arms and the nape of her neck.

“I’m being silly,” Jana said to herself, hardening her resolve. She had already lost precious time making a decision and scaring herself with her own wild imagination. She was wasting time that could be spent finishing her homework, time she could be using chatting with her friends online. With a final, decisive glance toward the flashing headlights of the busy road, Jana turned to the darkened alley.

Jana never made it home that night. 

The Library, or Back to Before

I want to go to the

Library,

The one that exists only

In my mind

When I was a child

And couldn’t read

Reviews in my hand,

When I had to rely

On my mom to drive,

And I'd wander, until

I found something

That struck me.

I want to return

To a time I was still finding

How to feel,

Before I understood

How I am supposed to think.

The freedom in

Not knowing,

In nothing

Expected.

I yearn for my wonder,

The joy in simple things

Before I learned

How much can be taken

So quickly.

That thrill

Of discovery.

I don’t want to know

The pain of grief, of loss,

I pine for the naïvete

Of before she was

Gone.

I miss the me

Before I knew

What I was capable of

And what I was not.

Take me back

To possibilities

Before life and death

Crushed everything.

Inspired by a crazy dream I had last night:

Poets

Gunshots Under Golden Arches

And a Woman in Red

Calm

The grey-white clouds caress the sky, casting a diffuse light over the comparatively-violent, bright green foliage. The birds are quiet and the bees seem to scramble over the flowers while they still can. There’s a feeling of preparation, an inhale of breath, a calm. A sharp pain in the side of my head speaks to a low pressure spiral. The leaves shiver and dance. It is almost time.

Me whilst writing: This is a masterpiece…I am a literary genius

Me whilst editing my writing: I am an abomination to the writing community

Zori had no idea what she was getting herself into when she stole an extra roll at dinner:

Futurism

A Hound in the Walls

There is No Escape