Market day was the best time to be at it. His victims were fellows with twirling canes and straw hats, beside dames with parasols, strolling about, haggling for rugs, munching from a bag of the Chinaman’s persimmons. He’d bide his time in the narrow streets, to where they were carried beneath him by the push of the crowd. Then, on the hour, as the church bells rang, the inexplicable would occur: a choreographed dance of dandies removing their watches from their pockets. And that’s when he struck, with the quick rip of fabric, the flutter of wings, up, and away.
Notes:
When I first read this story I didn’t know what a Magpie was, but I immediately had to think about a strange looking fellow, dressed in black with big wings on his back. Then I looked the word up in the dictionary, and it all made sense…
Tomorrow (Ryan Licata)
A fly rested on the lamp nearby. Frank sat smoking; a deaf tap sent ash from his cigar falling like snow. Nobody was around. When a man has thoughts of tomorrow to contend with a fly has no place being there. Breathing cigar air, his hand relaxed, unfurled a fleshy palm. Minutes past; the fly edged across the lamp. Frank noticed the abundance of grey hairs entwined about his wrist watch; smoke fled from his nostrils. Seconds past; the fly flew its erratic way nearby, where, closed in tight by soft flesh, death came so slow it didn’t make sense.
Last Minute (Sbrizz)
Non c’era nulla in quel piccolo appartamento incastrato tra gli alti palazzi del centro. Nulla che potesse far pensare che una volta varcata la soglia per andare sul balcone, questo potesse nascondere un meraviglioso giardino. Immenso, irreale più di un sogno. Ma il salice era lì, sotto le sue fronde un tavolino bianco e due sedie di vimini. Il macha era già pronto, l’aroma si diffondeva dolcemente. Un sorso, poi un’altro. Era tutto quello che voleva in quel momento. Chiuse gli occhi e sorrise pensando che non avrebbe mai più dubitato delle offerte lastminute.
Notes:
I did the illustration for the first story (Tomorrow) directly on my sketchbook. For some reason, in my head, this story had a strong noire atmosphere and some kind of 50s touch. Don’t ask me why… maybe because of the cigar? In the illustration I tried to expand the concept of “thoughts of tomorrow” adding the memories of yesterday. Something I think is strictly connected together.
In the second illustration I tried to get back to my “Dog Show technique” to recreate the dreamy, surreal atmosphere of the story. It’s actually all made with pieces of photographs and some digital painting on it. Thanks to Night-Fate-Stock (deviantart) for the willow tree stock.
