There are a million ways to think — and, more importantly, to feel — about Isabel Reidy (or, as they bill themselves here, “Izzy True”)’s mind-bending and frankly devastating full-color mini Shitty Lover, but however you interpret it, one thing is for certain : you’ve bound to be impressed.

And I use that term in the strictest, most literal sense — this is work that leaves an impression. An impression that will no doubt vary from reader to reader and perhaps, even, from reading to reading, but nevertheless, a mark is always left. A very indelible mark, at that.

Magnificently painted in vibrant and arresting hues, the narrative here is necessarily a loose one, a tale of cosmic-level longing fulfilled in the form of a cruel joke at best, an ironic twist of fate at worst, as “shitty” love proves to be far more damaging, more negating