The Illustrator

Absorbed in a less then picturesque Derwent-coloured hell...I begrudgingly attempted to sketch yet another train scene. Making windows appear 'less square' and bellies 'less toned', with the less than adequate materials provided and a deadline of two-thirds-of-fuck-all. "MUSH", they would say. "Draw faster! Draw better! Include those seventy three wrinkles on her hand!" Distressed in reception, I dreamt of scenarios such as sling-shotting a musty leather-bound textbook entitled "Exploitation 101" at their cashed-up craniums, or perhaps hosting a sing-a-long to "Let the boat people in, they draw good for cheap".