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The Suburban Review
  • ABOUT
    • Opportunities
    • FAQ
    • Donate
    • Contact
    • Jumpstart a Journal
  • SUBMIT
  • READ
    • Buy a New Issue
    • All Online Issues
    • Explore the Archive
    • Interviews
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  • ANNOUNCEMENT
    • Newsletter
    • Account
  • THE REGIONAL REVIEW

Last Days

#28 Art & Comics, Archive, Featured, #28 Leaven / By David Tarafa
David Tarafa

David Tarafa is queer Cuban-American artist. He writes and draws comics about sex, magic, queerness, transformation, and identity.

PAGE 1: All black and white. A grid of 16 panels in rows of 4. 

Panel 1: An expressionless man sits on an airplane. He gazes to the right, off-panel. He wears a tank top, small hoop earrings, and a thin necklace. He has a fade, and the front of his hair swoops to the side. A voice from off-panel says “ladies and gentlemen, prepare for landing.”

Panel 2: The same man stands holding a pet kennel in one hand. His other wrist hangs limply, and behind him is a rolling suitcase. He has a belly.

Sound effect: ding dong
A voice from off-panel: “Coming!”

Panel 3: A woman hugs him tightly. She has a hooked nose and crows feet. Her eyes are shut. We see them in profile, and his face is blocked from view. She sighs and says “mi hijo.”

Panel 4: The man stands in the foreground, the same blank expression on his face. She stands behind him and says “your boxes came, they’re in the guest room.”

Panel 5: A bedroom. It has a queen-sized bed, neatly made. It has a nightstand next to it. Against the wall, we can see a desk with a chair. There’s a large window over the bed, and another one over the desk. In the foreground, there are four large cardboard boxes taped shut. 

Panel 6: The man is asleep in bed, on his back. He’s not wearing a shirt, and there are curly hairs in the center of his chest. He has a small sleeping dog in one armpit. His opposite hand is on his chest. He’s drooling onto his pillow. 

Panel 7: This panel is very dark. The man is asleep again, this time on his side. His hair is messier. The dog is in front of him, asleep as well. His hand is on the dog.

Panel 8: The man is still sleeping. He’s on his side, with an arm stretched over his head. The sleeping dog has twisted its body. 

Panel 9: This panel is very dark as well. He’s asleep on his back again, hair even messier. The dog is still asleep, now on its side with its head on the pillow. A voice from off-panel says “mi amor, come out and have some dinner.” Then, “Julio?”

Panel 10: The man and the woman are seated at a table together. She’s holding a fork and eating from a plate. He’s holding a burrito. There are glasses on the table. She pleasantly smiles as she asks, “so, how long do you think you’ll stay?” His expression remains neutral as he says “I don’t know.” She then asks “where are you going next?” He says “I don’t know.”

Panel 11: Nearly the same as the last panel. The man’s eyes are now cast downward. The woman has raised her fork. She’s no longer smiling. She asks, “do you have any job leads?” He says “no.” She says “okay. And have you tried talking to him at all? Maybe if you-,” he replies “no.”

Panel 12: The man is back in bed. He’s laying on his back, shirtless. He says “god.”

Panel 13: Similar to the last panel, but he’s crying now. Eyes closed, brows furrowed, lips clenched. He says, “how did I wind up here?” Then, “maybe I should just…”

Panel 14: He’s sitting on the side of the bed. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are barely open. He’s only wearing a skimpy pair of black underwear, and his belly protrudes over them. His hands are on his knees. The small dog stands on the bed looking at him.

Panel 15: Still in his underwear, he’s now seated at the desk. We see him from behind. He says “okay…”

Panel 16: The desktop. A blank piece of paper with a folded corner, a glass of water, a pen, two paintbrushes, two small tubes of paint, a watercolor palette.
PAGE 2: The top part of this page is a piece of paper with a folder corner, like the one from the last panel on the previous page. The piece of paper is yellow and its panels are in full color. Underneath the piece of paper are 3 panels in black and white.  

Panel 1: A small red blob with a face and arms and legs stands in his black underwear. He is frowning. The room he stands in has yellow walls and a black floor. There are three portraits on the wall in blue, purple and red. There’s also a pink plant in a blue pot. He says “gosh. I feel so lonely and blue.”

Panel 2: Similar to the last panel, but his eyes are now closed. He says “maybe I’ll feel better if I go to the beach.”

Panels 3-6: Three tiny panels showing the red blob walking in profile. He is wearing a blue outfit that covers his entire body, except for his face and arms.

Panel 7: He’s now on the beach. The sand and ocean are beige and blue, and the sky is pink. We see the sun and some distant birds. He’s beginning to smile as he says “it’s so nice.”


Panel 8: He’s now smiling broadly and pulling down his blue garment. He says “I wanna get naked and feel the sun on my body.”

Panel 9: He’s naked now, angled mostly away from us. He’s pear-shaped with a big shiny butt. He’s still smiling, and he says “mmmmm.” 

Panel 10: We pan out slightly. A pink character resembling an alligator stares at him, as does a green blob character with yellow eyes. They’re both smiling. He’s coquettishly looking back at them. He thinks to himself, “oh! They’re looking at me!”

Panel 11: His face takes up the entire panel. He’s got the same coquettish look on his face, and his cheeks are flushed pink. He thinks to himself, “I love the attention. Maybe I should give them a show.”

Panel 12: He does a cartwheel. We seem him in action, nearly upside-down, still from behind with his big butt showing. The pink and green characters are still watching, this time with their mouths agape. He says “haha.”

Panel 13: Mid-cartwheel, a wind lifts him up. The wind is made up of black and blue swirly lines. He looks startled. His big butt is still in view. At this altitude, the sky transitions from pink to yellow. He exclaims, “whoa! A great wind!!”

Panel 14: He’s up in the sky, flailing his arms dramatically with his mouth wide open. The sky is yellow, he’s up near the birds, and the wind continues to swirl underneath him. He says “whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa.”

Panel 15: He’s no longer flailing, he’s now smoothly gliding on the blue swirling wind. He’s smiling broadly. Down below, the entire beach is visible. There are lots of tiny people on the beach, almost specks from this distance. He says “oh! I- I’m flying!”

Panel 16: Close up on him as he flies; still smiling, cheeks pink, eyes shut. He says “wow.”

Panel 17: We’re now outside of the full-color comic, returning to the black and white framing comic. The man’s face is pictured, looking down. He’s smiling slightly.

Panel 18: The desktop again. The cup is now filled with black water, and both brushes are in it. The watercolor palette has paint in every compartment. A hand puts a pen down. The piece of paper is now filled in with the comic about the blob person. 

Panel 19: The man’s head is tilted upward, still looking down. His smile deepens.

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The Suburban Review is a quarterly digital journal of short fiction, creative non-fiction, poetry and art. We’re interested in publishing the work of writers from all over Australia and the world.  

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We acknowledge the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples of this nation. We acknowledge the Wurundjeri and Boonwurrung peoples of the Kulin Nation, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation, the Awabakal, Worimi, Wiradjuri, and Kaurna Peoples, and the Tasmanian Aboriginal communities of lutruwita, the traditional and ongoing custodians of the lands on which we produce and publish.

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