and a few years later, she climbed back into that same battered Rover and left the city that had once praised her for her loyalty.  wind on her face didnt budge her dirty hair but the smile came back from the gravel under her tires.  not sure what was left to do in this life after leaving the one love she had sought for years, fought for in her mind, 

aja mee dnod the bat

scrapbook of ideas

I posted the picture below just to see the results. 
None of these characters can be held accountable for their existence, let alone their individual iconographies, but they may spark les idees...

birth of a comic strip...

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