Mono Wah by Oshibori

So you're walking down to the corner shop to buy some cake, and there's an old man standing at the curb. He's got a brown paper bag in one hand and the other is holding on to a shredded piece of string, at the end of which is attached an even more ancient Jack Russell. The old man is staring at the upper level of the building opposite with a quizzical expression on his deeply lined, sun scorched face. He blinks, coughs once and then stumbles across the road, dragging the ragged old dog behind him. You enter the shop and buy some cake.

Not really a label.

Peter Wright
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