Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective lives mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch—either in illustration or word form—and the other would make a companion to the sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise makes both minds more nimble. Hopefully.
Momma keeps telling her to smile a little bit. Everyone likes a nice smile. We sell more wigs.
But last time she smiled, some weird guy with a beret and bongos kept dancing up to her, saying, “I am the Lothario of Smith Street. Let me woo.”
Now Clarita glowers.
Jesus, sadly, has not saved her from this stupid job. Momma won’t even cut her own flesh and blood a break on a wig. Clarita wants one that looks like Miss Dolly’s biggest hair. It’s good to want things, Momma says, unless it’s to not walk around with the big board. That you’ll just have to deal with.
Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.