Mika Kagehira

In the rose garden, far from the hustle and bustle of the city, there stands a person fast asleep in a chair. Well, at least, you hope he was asleep.

His head resting on a small table filled with drawings, rough sketches and crumpled pieces of paper.

The man slowly come awake as you approach him; he rubs his eyes and looks at you sleepily.

“Uhhah… I fell asleep. ‘m sorry, Imma headin' back now”