Some cats sleep in sunbeams. This one commandeered the moon. Soft pastel ink, wobbly linework, a nap taken very seriously. One big graphic, all mood, zero text.

The moth that ate the hole is the one fixing it. No excuses, no new sweater — just needle, thread, and taking responsibility for your own mess. HD puff embroidery so every wing stitch stands up off the fabric.

Waiting is not wasting. A chrysalis holds everything necessary—wear the moment before the wing unfolds.