On a quiet street in a little town in a far off land is the Holly Barry Inn. Is it quaint but well equipped with anything one might need when snowed inn by a Nor’Easter. It is perpetually warm, smells like smoked cinnamon, and has beds made of straw and down (no bugs). There is no inn keeper, at least none that anyone has ever seen…the inn mysteriously seems to keep itself. No one questions this, though, as if questioning it’s existence would make it disappear.

Made of wood, gouache, and colored pencil with a golden string for hanging

PLEASE NOTE: These are sprayed with a layer of protective varnish, but are not meant to go outside!