June is often first in a string of unrelenting, gruelling and downright uncomfortably hot months.
(June is also the month which happened to contain the even-more-gruelling event of moving house - so apologies for the absence, I was weeping beneath towers of cardboard boxes and council tax forms)
This little four-panel affair is the next page in my super square sketchbook and documents the perils of living in the very top room of a house during summer. And also the odd effect a bit of sunshine has on neighbours - turning many into chattering nudes.
It may have been fictionalised a touch... I'm not covered in feathers or male... or indeed scorched to a smoking husk as a result of my lodgings.
Correction - Past lodgings!
The new pad is super cool.
