The glass ball in her hand vibrates softly with the activity of the inhabitants. Busy buzzing ball. She places it against the delicate skin of her neck. The cold glass hums and clicks. Pressing the sphere to her throat she rolls it to her larynx. Words form whisperingly from her mouth, the voices of her captives. Brush pen and Prismacolor markers on paper, 9x12 inches.
Zines and non-profits are welcome to use my work, but please notify me first. All other uses are considered illegal, mean and downright loathesome.
('Artist Custom #1 copyright')
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