Dear December

Dear December

By Melissa Marni “Uh oh.” “What?” “Nothing.” “Then why’d you say ‘uh oh.’” “No reason.” “No reason? You said ‘uh oh’ just because?” “Exactly. It’s a fun thing to say.” “It’s not.” “It is. Lighten up!” “Not cool, Josephine. You know I’m sensitive about being so damn yellow.”

The Art Director

The Art Director

It was late in the day, the light tinny and waxen, a final push of sunshine before darkness. But morning or midnight, the time mattered little to a broody art director named Simon; every molecule of air around the Sour Milk Gallery had been curdled with failure for weeks. He lit

Back to Top