Sometimes I run out of time and it has to just be “good enough.” But I’ve been thinking about this one for a whileÂ and I thought the pun on the famous Fluevog slogan was too good to pass up.Â It would have been a shame not to do something for it. Besides, I really like these shoes! Even though I didn’t quite get the color right in my illustration. I think I finished this end-to-end in under 8 hours. I need to work on my “quick draw!”
For those familiar with Wuthering Heights, this one’s obvious. Here are some quotes from the book on which I based this. First, the setting. Second, the action:
The whole furniture consisted of a chair, a clothes-press, and a large oak case, with squares cut out near the top resembling coach windows. Having approached this structure, I looked inside, and perceived it to be a singular sort of old-fashioned couch, very conveniently designed to obviate the necessity for every member of the family having a room to himself. In fact, it formed a little closet, and the ledge of a window, which it enclosed, served as a table. I slid back the panelled sides, got in with my light, pulled them together again, and felt secure against the vigilance of Heathcliff, and every one else.
â€˜I must stop it, nevertheless!â€™ I muttered, knocking my knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little, ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, â€˜Let me inâ€”let me in!â€™ â€˜Who are you?â€™ I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. â€˜Catherine Linton,â€™ it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of Linton? I had read Earnshaw twenty times for Linton) â€˜Iâ€™m come home: Iâ€™d lost my way on the moor!â€™
Emily Bronte,Â Wuthering Heights, 1847
Of course I changed this to “I’ve lost my shoes on the moor.” Hopefully I’ll get into the finals this time around.