Editorial Team

Indie Affair

From the Editor in Chief

About Jessica Vieira:

Bitten at a young age to pursue
creative pathways in various artistic
forms, which led to an event filled
existence, while dealing with the
struggles presented within our
existence, gaining an understanding
and appreciation for life and all
of its organic beauty. Writing has
been a calling to her soul and with
her through the years albeit, the
last few she has been writing her
take on Ancient Alien theory with
mythology and modern man.

Dear Reader,

have had the fortune to meet many

incredible souls through Instagram.
Finding a wealth of support for myself
and the community to which I now belong.
Being moved and my heart captured by the
words read, once an opportunity presented
itself to assist writers in gaining further
exposure, I jumped at the chance. A quick
glance at this issue shows you our continued
commitment and resolve to publish a journal
of the highest standards devoted exclusively
to the circulation of indie artwork.
Our purpose is to showcase any artist,
no matter the background, reaching a
new audience, moving each individual, by
touching their heart as we have been. After
all, sharing is caring, right? Support in the
artist community as I have found, is tight
knit and welcoming of new talent. In life
there are struggles, the way we choose to
utilize those experiences makes a difference.
Helping ourselves or another by sharing the
hard times and lessons learned is therapeutic
and freeing of our souls from the burdens
we carry.
We cordially invite all artists, of any medium and
skill level in contributing to this publication.
Enjoy the beauty each participant shares
with us through the blood ink penned in
poetic, fiction, or any other manner of each
wondrous composers experience. Show your
support for these soulful artist by following
them on Instagram.
Jessica

Indie Affair is a non-commercial publication dedicated to publishing

meaningful work (articles, stories, poetry, etc.) as well as disseminating
and promoting the work of emerging and established authors and
artists through digital innovation.
Indie Affair publishes poetry, fiction, flash fiction, art/photography,
and cross-genre works from contributors around the world. We also
publish reviews of new/old books from the major publishers and
small presses, and articles about aspects of poetry and prose writing.
We welcome submissions from all artists dedicated to producing
exciting, innovative prose/poetry.
If you would like to submit your work, please feel free to contact any
of our editors via mail to:
Editor in Chief
Jessica Vieira

indie.affair.magazine@gmail.com
www.scribd.com/user/309033918/
Indie-Affair

Proof Reading & Editing

Kawaihoano Lahui
Layout Design & Graphics
Gabriel Acosta

https://www.facebook.com/
indieaffairmagazine

Founders
S.P.
Jessica Vieira
Gabriel Acosta

Copyright and Disclaimer Notice:

This is a non-commercial e-magazine.

This publication, Indie Affair - its name and design are the
exclusive property of S.P, Jessica Vieira and Gabriel Acosta. The
publication may be non-commercially, copied and distributed
for classroom use, so long as the name of the contributors,
creators, a copyright notice, a license notice, a disclaimer notice
and link to the material are provided. Other uses will depend on
the permission of the authors themselves.
By submitting their pieces of writing authors agreed on the
following terms:
*The contents (i.e. articles -poems, stories, artwork, etc-) are
property of the authors who keep the copyright of their work.
*Authors are NOT paid for the pieces of writing that they
submit.
*Authors allow the e-magazine to publish their pieces of writing
once only, without any sort of financial compensation as this
is a non-profit work done by volunteers.
*The formatting of every piece of writing -unless otherwise
requested- will be adjusted by the editorial team according to
the needs of the design for better reading.
The author is invited to mention Indie Affair as a source
whenever the author later republishes the article on other
platforms. Altering the content of the publication in any way is
prohibited. No material may be reproduced without permission
in writing from the e-magazine founders and/or the authors.
S.P., J.Vieira, G. Acosta - 2016 - All Rights Reserved.

Indie Affair

Issue 1

CONTENTS
Issue 5 - October15th - 2016

P. 01- Veiled

P. 28- Kitten fairy

P. 02- A Sea of Options: Interview

P. 28- Course

P. 05- Loner in Metropolis

P. 29- Car Door

P. 05- Petite Haikus

P. 29- I See

P. 06- Dark Lullaby

P. 30- Blind Faith

P. 08- Writers Resource

P. 31- Tomorrows Sacrifice

P. 08- OCP&B Auction

P. 32- Witch

P. 09- R.I.P. Roz, Book Intro

P. 32- Entrance

P. 09- The Answer

P. 33- Defiant Joy

P. 10- A Halloween Tale

P. 34- Daddys Angel, Excerpt

P. 11- Haiku by P.C.

P. 34- Shadows

P. 12- Moonrise

P. 35- Fulfilled

P. 13- Tears of Evidence, Excerpt

P. 35- Paper Places

P. 14- All Hallows Eve

P. 36- Running with Scissors

P. 18- Sepulchral

P. 39- Black Dahlia

P. 18- Light & Dark

P. 40- Royal Integrity Collective

P. 19- Upon the Mirrors Edge

P. 41- Into the Abyss I go

P. 25- Saffron

P. 42- Simple Truth

P. 25- Featured Artist Special

P. 43- Astray

P. 27- Regret

P. 44- Heavens no place for me

P. 27- Sunflower

P. 43- Katashi
III

Indie Affair

Page 1

Veiled
By Morgan May

morganmay19

Bio: An aspiring artist, just

beginning to discover and
experiment with my painting
style, while trying to find the
beauty in all this darkness. Im
in love with art of every form,
constantly seeking inspiration
and finding a release in it.
Everything was beautiful and
nothing hurt.

Indie Affair

Page 2

The Sea of Options:

A Publisher Interview Series
Indie Affair Team

Conti nui ng my search throug h in d ie p ub lish er s, an d

now, the ti me for m e to l ook i nto Pr o m en ad e Pr ess wh o
happened upon the scene dur in g th e d istr ustf ul tim e
wi th the i nfam ous downfal l o f U W an d its num b er ed
subsi di ar y. As al l of us have the itch to see o ur n am e o n
book cover s, I star ted fol l owi ng th eir In stag r am acco un t,
eag erl y readi ng each posts ca p tio n . Af ter all th at we
have read from the l i ars and sch em er s, th is o n e seem ed
too g ood to be tr ue, and that missio n statem en t was like
l i steni ng to a squeak y-cl ean boy sco ut with a b lin d in g
whi te sm i l e. My fear, behi nd th e scen es, was th e U W
company founder tr yi ng to shi f t th e illusio n to an o th er
for m. Of course, l ivi ng i n a wor ld o f an o n ym ity an yo n e
can say anythi ng, but i t i s al ways tim e th at tells. As th e
months have wor n on, I ke pt a n eye o ut f o r Pr o m en ad e
and what they were accom pl i sh in g.
Now, wi th the l aunch of their classics p r ess an d th e
acce pted authors on contract, we will see th e quality
i n content sel ected and attentio n to d etail. T h er e ar e
al ways hi ccups, and that i s to be ex p ected , wh at I wan t to
see, i s how thi ngs are handl ed. T h us f ar, in my o p in io n ,
I obser ve a g reat star t and pl en ty o f an ticip atio n f o r
success.
T here are al ways questi ons to ask an d f o llow up to d elve
dee per. S eeki ng the tr uth of wh at I f in d b est f o r m e an d
shari ng thi s knowl edg e to hel p my f ellow ar tists seek in g
to be wel l i nfor med. Usual l y, i t takes m e r esear ch , tr ial,
and er ror to nai l down the pro p er co ur se o f actio n in
deci di ng somethi ng as l arg e as my p ub lish in g d esir es.
We are speaki ng wi th Matt, a co -f o un d er o f Pr o m en ad e
Press. T hank you so much for tak in g th e tim e to g r an t
us thi s i nter vi ew.

Indie Affair

Matthew Henson-Mayes,
Co-Founder/CEO
of Promenade Press

Michael Zepeda,
Co-Founder/COO
of Promenade Press

Page 3

Edito rial Tea m: I have

personal l y fol l owed your I G
account
si nce
Prom enade
popped up al l those months
ag o. Because of the ti m i ng, do
you fi nd a sti gma wi th the now
defunct UW Press and your
bl ossomi ng com pany?
Matthew H enson-Mayes:
Fi rst, l et m e thank you
for bei ng one of the fi rst
fol l owers of Promenade Press!
Reg ardi ng the potenti al sti gm a
sur roundi ng UW, for the fi rst
m onth, there were accusati ons
that we were affi l i ated wi th
Underwater Mountai ns. We
even had a few authors accuse
us of bei ng a reboot of UW.
We tri ed to di spel those
r umors and accusati ons by
posti ng my busi ness par tners
and I par tnershi p ag reement.
I t eventual l y di ed down. We
havent had to deal wi th these
al l eg ati ons recentl y.
ET: Searchi ng the websi te, I
have yet to see details reg arding
what contractual obl i g ati on
both par ties have ag reed. Would
you mi nd tel l i ng us what your
rol e as a publ i sher contai ns?
MHM:
Our
contractual
obl i g ati ons as a publ i sher are
pretty standard: bui l d, edi t,
desi gn the cover, rel ease the
book on ti me and pay the
authors. And we i ntend to
m eet those obl i g ati ons as such.
W hi l e we havent rel eased any
books yet, our fi rst book,
whi ch i s a chapbook wri tten by
G areth Eg an, i s schedul ed to
be rel eased i n l ate N ovember.
ET: Promoti on i s al ways
needed for i ndi e ar ti sts. W hat
d oes your l abel provi de for an
adver ti si ng campai gn, besi des
what the author can provi de
from thei r own fol l owi ng?

MHM: Well, we p lan o n d o in g

a lo t m o r e th an m ar ketin g v ia
so cial m ed ia. Wer e p lan n in g o n
doing on camera inter views with
each o f o ur auth o r s in ad d itio n
to p ub lish in g p o etr y v id eo s f o r
o ur p o ets, an d p o ten tially even
tak in g o ut ad s o n Am azo n an d
o th er sites. H owever, we ar e
still p r etty n ew an d d o nt h ave
th e r equir ed b ud g et to f ulf ill
an ad cam p aig n just quite yet,
b ut in th e f utur e, we will.
E T : On ce sig n ed , is th e auth o r
b o un d to exclusiv ity, an d h ow
lo n g will th e co n tr act last?
MHM:
Our
auth o r s
ar e
b o un d to exclusiv ity f o r o n e
b o o k . Sh o uld th ey d ecid e
th at Pr o m en ad e Pr ess is n o t
f o r th em f o r th eir n ex t b o o k ,
th ey ar e f r ee to p ur sue o th er
o p tio n s with o th er p ub lish in g
co m p an ies f o r th eir n ex t b o o k .
Our p ub lish in g ag r eem en ts ar e
f o r o n e b o o k o n ly. Of co ur se,
we h o p e to r etain each auth o r
f o r m o r e th an o n e b o o k .
E T: W h at ar e yo u lo o k in g f o r
in a sub m issio n th at wo uld
g ar n er a co n tr act?
MHM: Wer e un ique in h ow we
d eter m in e wh eth er an auth o r is
o f f er ed a p ub lish in g ag r eem en t
(co n tr act) in th e sen se th at
we h ave a p an el th at d ecid es
if an auth o r is g iven th at
o p p o r tun ity. Essen tially it is a
system o f th e m ajo r ity r ules.
N o o n e p er so n d ecid es if we
g ive an auth o r an o p p o r tun ity
to b e p ub lish ed . T h e r easo n
f o r th is is th at we r ealize th at
n o t all auth o r s wr itin g style
ap p eals to ever yo n e an d we
wan t to af f o r d each auth o r th e
sam e o p p o r tun ity.

Indie Affair

ET : T h er e a re ma n y sma ll presses to work

with cu r r ently, wh a t sets Pr omenade apar t?
MH M: W h at sets us a p a r t is what we have to
o f f er. We o ffer ma n y n ew a g e ser vi ces such
as o n -ca m er a in ter views wi th our authors,
rea d i n g v i deo s, a n d in p erson readi ngs,
am o n g o th er th in gs. O bviousl y, we dont
wan t to g ive away o u r en tire re per toi re, but
th ose a r e j ust a few exa mpl es of what we
h ave to o f f er fo r o ur a uth ors.
E T : W h a t req uiremen ts do you set for a
pers p ective a u th o r to fulfi l l before they
sign?
MH M: We h ave n o requ irem ents to ful fi l l
bef o r e we o ffer th em a p ub lishi ng ag reement
a s i d e f r o m b ein g a g o o d wr i ter. We bel i eve
that a n a u th ors ta len t is su ffi ci ent enough i n
a nd o f i ts elf. We ca n p rovid e the resources
to n o t o n l y p ub lish th e a u th ors l atest works
bu t a l s o to b u ild th em u p to achi eve thei r
m a x i mu m po ten tia l.
ET : W h en will sub missi ons open for
co n tr a cts ?
MHM: We ve a lrea dy o p ened submi ssi ons
f o r th e f i r s t ro un d, wh ich have si nce been
closed b eca use we wa n t to l i mi t the am ount
o f wo r k o n o u r p la tes co n si deri ng that we
o nly h ave th ree p eo p le ta ki ng care of our
au th o r s a t the mo men t. C u r r entl y, were onl y
work i n g wi th ten a u th o rs so that we can
p r ov i d e th e b est ser vices to those authors
and p r ov i d e th e ver y b est o f what we have to
o f f er. E ventua lly, wh en we can expand, we
wil l b e wo r kin g with mo re than ten authors.
We h o p e to exp a n d to b ein g abl e to handl e
m an y, m a n y a uth o rs a n d sti l l mai ntai n the
level o f q ua lity a n d ser v i ce that we do
n ow. H owever, with o u r cur rent budg etar y
co n f i n em en ts, its just n ot possi bl e to
h a nd l e th o usa n ds o f a uth ors. But, as I ve
s ai d , even tua lly we will g et to that poi nt.
Ou r f o cu s will a lways b e on the authors
and d o i n g a su p erio r jo b of meeti ng thei r
ar ti s ti c v i s i o n o f th eir wo rks.
E T : H ow do yo u th in k the ag e of soci al
m ed i a h a s i nf luen ced th e literar y communi ty
a nd i ts r ea d ersh ip ? Do yo u vi ew thi s chang e
a s a p o s i t ive o r n eg a tive?
MH M: S o cia l Media is an exce pti onal l y
s tr o n g to o l th a t ca n b e used for m any
thin g s. Recen tly weve seen the abi l i ty of

Page 4

an enti re g over n m en t b ein g ch an g ed f o r th e

better wi th th e Ar ab Sp r in g b ein g a p r im e
exampl e of th e p ower o f so cial m ed ia.
I ts no di ffer en t f o r th e p ub lish in g wo r ld ,
i ncl udi ng the vast am o un t o f auth o r s in o ur
worl d. I defi n itely v iew it as a p o sitive to o l
for the l i terar y co m mun ity.
I f you l ook at th e er as wh er e so cial m ed ia
wasnt an optio n , f o r ex am p le, th e m ajo r ity
of the hi stor y o f m an , wh o k n ows h ow m an y
l i terar y g reats we m issed o ut o n . N ath an iel
Hawthor ne or Em ily Br o n t d id nt h ave th e
benefi t of th e In ter n et o r so cial m ed ia at
thei r fi ng er ti p s. Its quite sh ak in g to th in k
of who we mig h t h ave m issed o ut o n in th e
l i terar y worl d as a r esult o f th e p eo p le o f
that ag e not h av in g access to a r eso ur ce
l i ke that.
We coul d have m issed o ut o n co un tless
authors whos e wo r k s m ig h t h ave sur p assed
those of the liter ar y M yth o s o f to d ay, an d
wel l never k n ow. So cial M ed ia af f o r d s o ur
soci ety the op p o r tun ity to g ive ever yo n e an
equal oppor tun ity to b e h ear d , to b e seen .

Indie Affair

Page 5

Loner in Metropolis
By Luvina Rosdiana

luvinafr

Bio: An aspiring graphic artist in

creating art with iPhone apps on
her phone as her only palette.
Led by instinct, dreams, pain and
love, she transforms everyday
moments into a delicate, ethereal,
and vibrant art

By Mallory Rowel

petitepoems

Bio: Mallory Rowe is a poet from

Alabama. She is currently working
on her second book of haiku. Her
work centers around spirituality,
the cosmos, and philosophy.

We peak th e d ar k h ill
As the fog settles b elow
Muff l i ng scream s f o r h elp

S oul s em er g e slowly
From the de pths o f M o th er Ear th -N ot ever h um an

Indie Affair

Page 6

Dark Lullaby
By Evander L. Fragoso

devouring_maw

Bio: A writer striving for greatness,

while assisting those closest to
me in their own creative ventures,
I am the shadowy fiend that clings
to sadness and despair, wriggling
my tendrils over gaping wounds,
to pull out bloody red gems that
twinkle in the moonlight. I hope
that these pieces will be able to
touch your mind, your heart, and
your soul, as they pass on through
yours.
Enjoy.
~The Devourer of Darkness~

Twi nkl e twi nkl e l i ttl e star,

how I wonder what you are.
I stared i nto the darkness,
seeki ng out the source of the
si ngi ng.

lig h t co uld h ave b een usef ul

n ow. Slowly I m ad e way ar o un d
th e lar g e cell, walk in g alo n g
th e wall, f o llowin g it with my
h an d .

Up above the worl d so hi gh,

li ke a di amond i n the sk y.

T h en th e tr aveller in th e
d ar k th an k s yo u f o r yo ur tin y
sp ar k s, th e sin g in g wen t o n .
H e co uld n o t see wh ich way
to g o if yo u d id n o t twin k le
so. W h o ever was o ut th er e
was m o ck in g m e. I tr ied n o t to
let it g et to my h ead , b ut with
my b elly em p ty, I co uld h ar d ly
co n tr o l my ir r itatio n . Bein g
f am ish ed always m ad e m e f eel
like th er e was a r ag in g f ir e in
my sto m ach b ein g set lo o se o n
my in sid es sin ce th er e wasnt
an yth in g b ein g used to f uel th e
f lam es.

Hel l o? I stood up wi th my
hands on the wal l behi nd me.
I was sti l l i n the cel l . I took a
ste p forward and a shar p stone
bi t i nto my foot, causi ng me
to hi ss at the sti ng of pai n. I t
was pi tch bl ack.
W hen the bl azi ng sun i s g one,
when he nothi ng shi nes upon,
the voi ce conti nued, si ngi ng
sl owl y i n the darkness. At the
moment I wi shed that I were
som e noctur nal creature better
sui ted to thi s. S onar bui l tin woul d have been ni ce, but
humans werent m eant to be
that way.
T hen you show your little light,
twi nkl e twi nkl e al l the ni ght.
I touched my wri st and cursed
at mysel f for not weari ng my
watch before l eavi ng the house
that day. T he l i ttl e ci rcl e of

M y h an d to uch ed th e icy co ld
sur f ace o f o n e o f th e b ar s.
Was I at th e en tr an ce to th e
tun n el alr ead y? It d id nt f eel
like I wen t th at f ar. I r an my
h an d h o r izo n tal to f eel f o r th e
o th er b ar s, b ut th er e was n o
sp acin g in th e r usted th in g I
to uch ed .
In th e d ee p d ar k caver n s, th ey

Indie Affair

kee p, a n d o f ten th ro u gh b reaks i n di mensi on

I pee p. I ta p p ed o n th e icy surface wi th my
nai l s. W h a tever wa s th ere, i t di dnt sound
of m eta l . I to o k a ste p away from the wal l
a s my h ea r t tigh ten ed in my chest. T here
wa s o n l y s to n e a n d co ld h a r d ear th around
m e fo r s u r e, with o n e side of the cel l bei ng
wa l l ed by meta l b a rs. W h at the fuck was
pu t i n th er e wh ile I sle p t? How l ong di d I
s l ee p ? H ow did th ey g et whatever i t was i n
ther e?
Fo r yo u n ever sh u t yo u r thousand eyes,
u nti l th e s u n is b lo tted o ut from the ski es,
the vo i c e wen t o n , g ettin g dee per. I coul d
f eel t h e th un dero us vib rati on from the
wo r d s i n my ver y b o n es, a n d i n the darkness,
a s i n g l e p o i n t o f ligh t b eg an to twi nkl e i n
the d a r k .
As yo u r b righ t a n d tin y spark l i ghts the
tr avel l i n g Lo rd in th e da rk, i t sang whi l e
oth er l i g h ts a p p ea red b efo re m e from where
the co l d s urfa ce wa s. It looked l i ke I was
s ta r i n g a t a wa ll o f sta rs. T h ey were bl i nki ng
a t m e. M y s kin crawled a s I ste pped fur ther
away a n d trip p ed, fa llin g backwards. T he
twi n k l i n g l i gh ts a dva n ced o n m e, and around
them, I co u ld see th e o u tlin es of eyel i ds and
l a s h es, a n d g ray lin es th a t went al l around
the s ta r s a s if so meo n e scr i bbl ed over the
s u r f a ce wi l d ly with a p en cil or pen.
T h o u g h you kn ow n o t wh at I am, twi nkl e,
twi n k l e, l i ttle sta r. T h e voi ce echoed
thro u g h th e ch a mb er. H o t ai r bathed me.
I co u l d f e el a h ug e lu mberi ng presence
encr o a ch i n g o n my existen ce. I g ri pped at
the g r o u n d , win cin g sligh tly as rock bi t i nto
skin.
I tr i ed to kick o u t a t whatever i t was,
d es p i te h ow fu tile it might have been. I
f el t l i ke a dumb -str u ck teen i n a sl asher
f li ck , d es p era te a s dea th leans over me. My
f eet wo u l d nt move, th o ugh , som ethi ng was
wr a p p ed a r o un d it, kee p ing i t i n pl ace. I
coul d nt m ove a t a ll, I rea lized. Somethi ng
ti g h ten ed a ro u n d my limb s. I t was dri ppi ng
wet a n d s l i p p er y a n d wo u n d around my ar m s
a nd l eg s l i ke a n a co n da s, g rippi ng ti ghter as
they cover ed mo re o f me.
My h ea r t ra ced like a frei ght trai n as I

Page 7

str ug gl ed. Af ter a f ew seco n d s, an o th er

one of the slimy th in g s b o un d my to r so,
and I coul d f eel a th in n er eel-like ten d r il
wrappi ng ar o un d my n eck . I star ted to
choke as I tr ied h ar d er to p ull away, as th e
twinkling eyes g rew big g er, or came closer,
I coul dnt tell in th e d ar k n ess at th at p o in t,
al l I knew was th at I was r un n in g o ut o f
ai r and i t fel t like my b o n es wer e r ead y to
cr umbl e und er th e p r essur e.
Choking, I stared wide-eyed at the blinking
twi nkl i ng eyeb alls as th ey b o b b ed up an d
down. W hatever th ey wer e a p ar t o f f illed
the chamber with laug h ter th at th r eaten ed
to m ake my head ex p lo d e with its d em o n ic
boom .
N ext thi ng I k n ew, th er e was a n ew lig h t
f l i ckeri ng, cr ack lin g , n ear by, an d I was
free of the cr eatur es g r asp. I r o lled o n to
my si de and cur led up, g asp in g f o r air
as the red l ig h t ap p ear ed f r o m d own th e
cor ri dor the b eauty an d o ld m an lef t f r o m
m e. From b eh in d th e th ick m etal b ar s,
wi th my bl u r r ed v isio n , I watch ed as th e
woman l i t a wall-to r ch th en sat cr o ssl eg g ed befo r e my ch am b er, lean in g th e
torch ag ai nst th e b ar s.
W hat was th at, I co ug h ed , still g asp in g
for ai r.
T hat was o n e o f th e lo st o n es, sh e
sai d. A l esser th in g f r o m th e d e p th s o f
a paral l el , a bysm al wo r ld .

Indie Affair

Page 8

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Indie Affair

Page 9

kris_johnston_author

Bio: Kris Johnston is a Southern

California native and a single
mother of six. She spends her days
guzzling coffee, wiping noses, and
dreaming up new stories to tell. In
addition, she has been a writer of
poetry since an extremely young
age and is obsessed with prose.
She is the author of the Amazon
bestsellers, This Beautiful Curse,
and Find Me in Heaven.

Book Intr o
Rest in Peace Roz
By Kris Johnston

T he year I tur ned fifteen, three major events happened

that would forever chang e the course of my life... And
thus begins the incredible jour ney of a young, abused,
neglected girl who finds love, self-wor th, and family, in
the most unexpected of places.

T he Answer
By Kris Johnston

Hold it close to seal your fate.

Let it bur n away the hate.
Let it g row and shine and gleam.
Hold it close and feed its dream.
Let it fill the emptiness.
Let it end the bitter ness.
No other force can rise above
T hat which is fueled by simple love.

Indie Affair

Page 10

A Halloween Tale
By Martha Magenta

Martha Magenta

Bio: Martha Magenta lives in

England, UK. Her poems focus on
a wide variety of topics including:
nature, love, loss, spirituality and
meditation, environment abuse,
and violence against women. Her
poetry has appeared in The Reverie
Journal, Whispers, and Beaux
Cooper; her haiku and senryu have
been published in online journals,
including Modern Haiku, Haiku
Presence, and Chrysanthemum.
She is the owner of POETS
community on G+.
https://marthamagenta.
wordpress.com/

C o m e a n d s i t n ea r th e h ea r th ,
an d I l l tel l yo u a ta l e th a t
yo u m ay fi n d h a rd to b el i eve. I
stayed i n th i s h o u s e wh ere
were g a th ered to n i gh t, to
cel eb ra te A l l H a l l ows E ve.

T h at n i g h t as I l ay awake
i n my ro o m, I h eard so me
ver y stran g e so un ds. T h ere
were c reaki n g do o rs an d
f l o o rb o ards - so meo n e was
cree p i n g aro un d.

I rem em b er th i s h o u s e,
as i t i s n ow, wi th reg a l
cu r ta i n s a n d d r a p es, o o z i n g
su m p tu o u s wea l th a n d tea rs,
wi th u n d efi n ed s h a d ows a n d
sh a p es.

Next day my f ri en d l o o ked

draw n an d p al e.
H ed h ad a ver y stran g e
dream.I t made me wo n der i f
o ur co n g en i al h o sts,
were n o t as ki n d as t h ey
seemed.

I ca m e h ere wi th a g en tl em a n
f ri en d , wh o m th e h o s t i nv i ted
to d i n e.
H i s wa xen fa ced wi fe l a i d o u t
th e b es t fo o d , a n d we d ra n k
th e fi n es t wi n e.
T h es e fo l k s were a n a n ci en t
f a m i l y, o f th e p eo p l e o f t h e
night. To preser ve their youth
an d l o n g ev i ty, th ey s h u n n ed
ex p o s u re to l i gh t.

I n th e dee p est recesses o f my

mi n d, I kn ew th i n g s werent
qui te ri g h t, th e f act th at th e
p al l i d p ai r sl e p t al l day, an d
o n l y aro se at n i g h t.
At di n n er, I recal l ed o ur h o sts
h ad sai d th ei r b l o o d h ad to
b e ren ewed.
I co ul d n o t recal l i f ei th er
o n e h ad eaten an y f o o d.

Indie Affair

Page 11

I decided to explore and found

a ro o m wi th a co ffi n i n s i d e.
On l i fti n g th e l i d , I ch o ked
o n th e s ten ch , wh ere m a g g o ts
sq u i r m ed a n d wri th ed .
S h o cked , I ra n to fi n d my
f ri en d . I fo u n d h i m o n h i s
b ed , h i s l i fel es s b o d y wh i te
an d d ra i n ed .
M y fri en d wa s co l d a n d d ea d !
I fea red th e va m p i res wo u l d
r etu r n . I s ea rch ed fo r a p l a ce
to h i d e, l es t I b eco m e th ei r
n ext b l o o d y m ea l , o r th e
seco n d b l o o d l es s b ri d e.

I un dersto o d th e cravi n g o f
th atsad resi den t an d h i s wi f e,
to see k th e essen ce eter n al
an d quen ch th ei r th i rst f o r
l i f e.

I sen se yo u th i n k me rath er
o dd -o l d f ash i o n ed, an d yet,
so yo un g. C o me cl o se, an d I
wi l l sh ow yo u al l I kn ow, b ut
f i rst,l et me taste yo u wi t h my
to n g ue!

N ex t, I reca l l f l o a ti n g t wa rd s
th e vo i d , i n l i m b o tween
l i fe a n d d ea t h . T h en I awo ke
f ro m a d el i ri o u s s l ee p, wi th
a co a rs e a n d ra ttl i n g b rea th .

By Peter C.

retrievements

Bio: Peters poetry is usually an

effort to give vision to the several
voices that bubble to the surface
of his mind with a few intriguing
phrases, or to give voice to the
visions that interrupt his daily
routine. His latest poems are
sounds and sights hes found
himself transcribing from his
dreams as he awakens from them.

My vo i ce wi l l fi nd yo u
from out a full-lumened moon
my ch a n t, th i s d a rkn ess

Indie Affair

Page 12

Moonrise
By John S LES

NYEastsideEntertainment

Bio: John S LES (pseudonym).

51m. Born and raised on the
Lower East Side of, NYC.
Formal education in New York
and New England. Informal
education on the streets of
NYC. Currently works in the
law enforcement community
(hence
the
pseudonym).
Blogger, photographer, writer.
My main goal to create projects
to positively assist people to
engage with one another.

Indie Affair

Page 13

An excerpt from Jonas Brinkleys book,

Tears of Evidence.

Jonas Brinkley

Bio: I am a 32-year-old selfeducated young black man

originally from Tifton, Georgia,
where I was raised by my
mother along with three older
brothers. My father never
played a role in my life.
Jonas Brinkley attended the
following schools:
Global University (Ministry)
Theosophical University
(Theosophy)
Stratford Career Institute
(Entrepreneurship &
Psychology/Social work)
I have written three books:
Tears of evidence, Amorous
dj vu, and Bitter Sweet
( poetry.)
I enjoy reading, writing,
exercising, intellectualizing,
cooking, and laughing. I am not
perfect; however, I do strive to
be a better person each day.
So I encourage anybody that
I encounter always to believe
in themselves and never to
be afraid to make a mistake.
Truly, it is the hardship that
shows us of what we are really
made.

Caught up i n the fog of a dream th at f eels to o much

l i ke real i ty, Troys awakeni ng will b e o n e o f calm n ess,
fol l owed by di sappoi ntm ent. M isun d er sto o d as a yo un g
man g rowi ng up, i t seem s that even tr o ub le an d h ar d sh ip
cannot cri ppl e Troys deter mi n atio n to tr ium p h over
thechi l l i ng g ri p of m i sfor tunes th at h ave f o llowed
hi m from adol escence to adul th o o d . H is n ever en d in g
f l i ghts to escape one si tuati on af ter an o th er o n ly take
hi m i nto the g ri ps of yet anoth er situatio n , each o n e
wi th the sam e ag enda.
T hat ag enda, as Troy sees i t, i s to in ter r up t an d str ip
hi m of whatever happi ness he f in d s. W ith so much
pai n and di sappoi ntm ent, i t seem s Tr oy sh o uld b e a
man embi ttered by the fact h e cant seem to escap e
from the troubl es of hi s past, wh ich seem d estin ed
to fol l ow hi m i nto hi s future. In stead o f f eed in g h im
hopel essness, those troubl es, m ish ap s, m ayb es an d
mi sfor tunes onl y make Troy d ig d ee p er f o r th e tr uth
that wi l l free hi m from the g r ip s o f ig n o r an ce an d
ci rcum stances. As he searches f o r th e tr uth , h e d r eam s
of l ivi ng a l i fe of the second ch an ce h e is g r an ted .
W hat wi l l deter mi ne hi s dream ? Tr uth will n o t b e th e
real i ty that he dream s of l ivi ng, it will b e th e actuality
of hi s si tuati on.

Indie Affair

Page 14

All Hallows Eve

By David Palmer

David Palmer

Bio: David makes his home

in Renten, Washington. A
former pastor, Dave reads
widely, meditates daily and
draws from musings on life,
love, longing, politics, social
justice, and peace. He has
authored over 200 sonnets,
and is currently working on a
novella.

T h e la st b us to A sh wo r th , a n d I al o n e
R id in g , d r o p p ed m e o f f a t its ver y
La st sto p. But I ve th r ee m iles of wal ki n g
T h r o ugh th is un savo r y p la ce, I di d p l ead.
L o o k , B ud , sn a p p ed th e d r iver, th e f ul l mo o n
Is yo ur s. H er co m p a n y is g h o stly, th o ug h
I wo uld wa tch o ut f o r h er sh a d ows th i s stran g e
A ll H a llows E ve. N igh tm a r es a r i se an d cree p.
Fla sh in g a y ellow-to o th ed sm ile, h e
G ave m e sh iver s. Sur ely h e must b e o n e.
O f T h em . U n willin gly I wa lked d own
B r o ken sid ewa lk s, to th e a d d r ess I d b een
G iven . G n a r led o ld o a k a n d f o o t tri p p i n g
M a p le sh a d owed my b lo o d ch illin g wal k.
W ith h o r r o r, it d awn ed up o n m e wh ere
I wa s a t, n ea r th e cem eter y my
B eloved Belin d a wa s b ur ied .
I h a d n o t r e tur n ed sin ce th e d ay I
La id h er to r est n ea r th e b lue sp r uces
Pr ick ly ever g r een n eed les. M y so r row.
In b itter n ess, lo ck d up my so ul away
Fr o m a ll r em in d er s o f o ur h o p es an d dreams.
T h is p la c e wa s my a n g uish e en wi th o ut th i s
N ig h t, so I a ttem p ted to a lter my
C o ur se. B ut f o r ces m a levo len t co n sp i rd
A g a in st m e. Fr o m sto n e wa lls cr o ss th e
Str eet ca m e th ir teen sh a d ows to pp i n g th e wal l
A n d m a k in g str a igh t f o r my ter r i f i ed so ul .
N o t wa itin g to k n ow wh a t th ey were, I f l ed
T h e o n ly esca p e r o ute o p en , ir o n.
G a tes sta n d in g a ja r, H a d d in gto n H aven s,
T h e ver y p la ce wa s a n a th e m a to
M y So ul, wh e r e th e g r o un d d id swal l ow h er wh o l e,
T h e d ay Id lo o k d in to th a t va ult, mi stake
N o g r ea ter co uld I h ave m a d e, a tun n el
Str a ig h t to th e L o r d o f D a r k n ess, an d n o l i g h t
A t th e en d o f it. Id cr in g ed in s o ul
C ur sin g myself f o r leav in g h er h ere i n
D a m p ess, d ecay, d r ea r y d un g eo n o f death .

Indie Affair

Page 15

Den i al an d d isen g a g em en t wer e my.

On l y to o l s o f sur v iva l. I ch o se
No t to th in k n o r r em em b er my b elov d
Now ag ai n , I sto o d o n th e wr o n g sid e o f
T h o s e g ates, wh o se h eav y ir o n b a r s cla n g ed
S h u t, s o u n d in g a ler t to wh a t f o ul th in g
M i g h t b e r o a m in g a r o un d th is n igh t. To o la te
I d i s cover d my sh a d owy p ur suer s
To b e b u t a f a m ily o f r a cco o n s
Tr eei n g th e m selves f r o m th e h ell h o un d s g uardi n g
T h e M an o r g r o un d s o p p o site. U n welco m e.
Gu es t, I , tur n ed to g a z e up o n g r aves, cr yp ts,
M au s o l eu m s, b en ch es a n d a r b o r s cr o ss
Acr es o f th e a b o d e o f th e d ea d . Pa le
M o n o ch r o m e m o o n lig h t p layed gla r in g ly ch il l ,
U n wel co m e illum in a tio n leav in g
No p l ace to h id e f r o m m a levo len t eyes.
Pan i c s we p t over m e in sta n tly with
On e over wh elm in g d esir e, I D O
NOT WAN T TO BE C AU G H T IN TH IS PLAC E o n th e
Ni g h t o f S a m h a in , wh en th e L o r d o f D a r k n ess,
H i ms el f, co m es lo o k in g f o r a h a r vest o f
S o u l s. T h e veil se p a r a tin g th e Liv in g
Fr o m th e D ea d str etch es th in . I im a gind
T h i n b o n y f in g er s cr ee p in g up my a r m
Ai mi n g f o r r en d ez vo us a r o un d my n eck .
Des p er ate, I tr ied th e g a te la tch , b ut it h eld
Fas t, as i f it h a d b een un o p en ed
Fo r ever. A ch ill swe p t up my b a ck a s
Par ox ys ms o f f ea r squeez ed my h ea r t
I f el t eyes with ev il in ten t o n m e.
H e s to o d with a ca n e, ta ils a n d a to p -h a t
Gau n t, th in , f r o m a d ista n ce, a g en tlem a n ,
Exce p t h i s f a ce wa s a sk ull with a n g r y eyes
An d th at h id eo us g r in m o st m a lign a n t
B ecau s e i t n ever ch a n g es. I k n ew a t
On ce th i s wa s L o r d Sa m h a in ; n owh er e wa s there
To h i d e, a s h e tur n ed , a n d th o ug h wa lk in g,
Gl i d ed to m e g a in in g a la r m in g sp eed .
M o r tal ! H is b r ea th wa s ch ill with th e o d o r
Of d ecay a n d f un gus a n d my b lo o d r a n .
C o l d . Yo u m ay th in k yo u h ave lo st yo ur way, b ut
I , o n th e o th er h a n d , a n d d eligh ted
To h ave f o un d such ea sy p r ey. Yo u, to n ig h t,
W i l l ab i d e in my a b o d e f o r ever.

Indie Affair

Page 16

W i th f earso m e sud d en n ess, h is sick le h e

Pr o d u ced , co ld -tip p ed sh a r p ed g e twin k lin g
B l u e i n th e ligh t o f th is h a un tin g H un te r s
M o o n . H av in g b een r o o ted in f ea r, I d id
S cr eam, wh ich m a d e h im la ugh in h id eo us gl ee.
Oh , I s ee, yo u wish to en ter ta in m e,
As I cu t th a t silver co r d wh ich b in d s yo ur
S o u l wi th in yo u. Wa tch it f lo a t in to m e!
I f o u n d my leg s a n d tur nd to f lee, b ut th e
Gr o u n d tur n ed so f t a n d sp o n g y, a n d I f elt
M y b o d y sin k b en ea th th e so d . So th is
I s wh at i t f e els like to d ie a ccur sed .
T h e wo r l d I k n ew wa s swa llowed up in
A b l ack n ess so d esp a ir in g , I wa iled .
W i th i n a tun n el, r ed , un inv itin g ,
S u l p h u r i c sten ch sur r o un d in g , stif lin g ,
I co u l d b a r e ly d a r e to b r ea th e, so h eld my b reat h
Ag ai n s t th e ev il th er e. B ut, like a m a n
I n d r ownin g d r ea m , th e d esir e to g a sp
O er came m e, so I quick ly in h a led
K n owi n g it wo uld p r o b a b ly b e my la st.
W hy r u n yo u, M o r ta l? H is m o ck in g la ugh ter
Was n ow r ig h t b eh in d my ea r. Yo u a r e h er e,
Al r ead y! T h is f ig h t, yo ur f lig h t is h o p eless.
S u r r en d er to my d esp a ir a n d sin k , n ow!
M y s i g h t g r ew d im , I f elt th e f licker o f.
T h at b l ad e cut b en ea th my co a t a n d g r a z e s ki n .
S to p ! I n th e N a m e o f a ll th a t is H o ly!
T h e vo i ce wh ich cr ied th is p r o cla m a tio n
C ame f r om f a r b eyo n d my sigh t, yet swif tly
To o, th i s a p p a r itio n a p p r o a ch ed us.
Al i ke, yet n o t a like, to my ch er ish d
M emo r y o f h er, h er eyes still loved
M e, I co u ld so clea r ly see, a ll co lo r
Dr ai n ed f r o m o n ce r o sy ch eek s. Sh e d id n o t
S to p b ef o r e m e, b ut p a ssed r igh t th r o ug h a nd.
Remai n ed wit h in my b o d y. O n ce m o r e
I f el t o u r O n en ess, th a t b liss I h a d th o ug h t
S o B i tter l y, to b e sn a tch ed un tim ely
Fr o m o u r g r a sp. D esist, B elin d a , b a r ked
T h e M o n s t er, h is so ul is cla im ed by m e,
Fo r eter nity. D a m n ed h e sh a ll b e.
No t, i f yo u ta ke m e in stea d , O Sa m h a in ,
M y B el oved O n e sa id . I sta n d h er e in

Indie Affair

Page 17

T h e Gap b etwix t h is so ul a n d yo ur sick le.

Yo u s h al l n ever h ave h im , f o r h e is m in e,
An d my cla im p r eced es yo ur own ! Sta m m eri n g ,
I cr i ed , But D ea r est, h ow ca n h e ta ke
Yo u ? Yo ur so ul h a s a lr ea d y p a ssd with in
H i s co mp a ss. M y b o d y? Yes! M y so ul, N o,
S h e s ai d with in my h ea r t! T h is E v il O n e
Fo u n d h e h a d n o cla im up o n p ur e so uls like
M i n e. B u t, I ca n save yo u, n ow by b ein g
Yo u r s u bstitute. I willin gly ta ke yo ur
Pl ace i n f ier y d e p th s o f h is d esp a ir.
Do nt s to p m e! T is n o t yo ur p la ce to f o r b id .
Fo o l s ! Sa m h a in ex p lo d ed , W h a ts to kee p me
Fr o m tak in g yo u b o th . Yo u h ave esca p ed
M e u n ti l n ow, B elin d a . But o n ce yo ur
S o u l i s m in e (a t la st) , yo u wo nt b e h er e to
Pr o tect th is cowa r d . H is so ul, I ll sun d er,
To o ! N o t if a ll sa tisf a ct io n h a s b een
Ach i eved! Yo u ve k n own th is r ule awh ile.
S h e p as s ed b eh in d m e, a s th e D a r k L o r d
R ai s ed h i s sick le to cleave us b o th in
Two. B u t sh e r a ised h er h a n d a n d m et h is.
Des cen d i n g b la d e with a f la sh o f b lin d in g
B l u e! S h e wa s n ow g o n e, so a lso, wa s h e.
S tr an g el y, th o ugh a lo n e, I co uld still h ea r her
Vo i ce, co m mun in g d ee p with in my p o o r h ear t.
Yo u h ave f o r g o tten m e, my D ea r, sh e d id
C h i d e, an d lef t m e with o ut v isit n o r sign
T h at I ever m ea n t a n yth in g to yo u.
Ou r l ove, we h a d p r o m ised wo uld la st f o r
Al l T i me, a n d ca r r y us to to m o r r ow.
Fo r g ive m e, my D ea r, I cr ied to th o se.
C r i ms o n wa lls. I wa s swa llowed up by
M y own self ish self -p ity, n o t th in k in g.
I f el t th e f a m ilia r ca r ess o f h er
H an d o n my ch est, a s h er wh isp er en ter d
M y ear. G o n ow, r etur n , it is n o t yo ur
T i me. C o m e f in d m e wh en it is. T h is wa s n ot
H i s n i g h t, it n ever wa s, Twa s A LWAY S m in e
To s ave yo u, a n d us, th is A ll H a llows E ve.

Indie Affair

Page 18

Sepulchral
By Mara

mmmmmra
My name is Mara, a Moon
Child Filipina, who started
writing - silly love poems in high school. And for a long
time, I thought writing was
my medium to getaway, but
when I found myself floating
aimlessly in the realm of AI
and slowly becoming a tech
slave, there I truly realized
that writing is not just my
escape. Writing is actually my
comfort zone. So I abandoned
my day job and journeyed back
home.

As I wa l ked a l ong this ha l l owed hal l ,

Fea r envel oped my being
As I obs er ved the sha dow by the d o o r.
I fel t a col d dra ft of wind tha t sen t shiver s dow n my spi ne
As it cr ept up on the ceil ing
And wor med down the wa l l .
I fel t suf f oca ted whil e tra pped in an eeri e stupo r
And my tor ment heightened when I saw i t sl i ther ed o n the f l o o r.
T he sensa tion seemed spectra l .
NO!
T he feel ing wa s cer ta inl y S epul chr al .

Light & Dark

By Mara

Indie Affair

Page 19

Upon the Mirrors Edge

By Josh Dale

jdalewrites

Bio: Josh Dale is a senior

at
Temple
University
and is published in Black
Elephant, Dead Snakes (now
defunct) and a trio of poetry
anthologies: Temples Hyphen
Lit. Magazine, Paradox: A
Rad Press Publication, and
In So Many Words. Drawing
from transcendentalism, Dale
aspires to become a prolific
short story writer.

L a s t ni g ht ma r ked the thi r d

occu r r ence thi s week he el ected
to s l ee p on the cou ch, a nd the
tu mu l tu ou s wi nd pou nd ed away
a t the s hi ngl es, s i g ni f yi ng i l l -ti me
s pent a l one for my end ea r i ng
hu s ba nd . Ju d gi ng by the s ou nd s
of hi s wee pi ng tha t mi ngl ed wi th
the wa ni ng l a mp-l i ght, I knew
s omethi ng to be wr ong. A s d awn
a s cend ed , I l a i d ther e, i n my
ha l f -empty bed , contempl a ti ng
on cons ol i ng my hu s ba nd , bu t
elected to leave him in his solitude.
B y the ti me I emer g ed fr om ou r
cha mber, he wa s a l r ea d y wi thi n
the ki tchen pr e pa r i ng l u nch the
s i l ence wa s por tentou s exce pt
wi th the method i ca l tu r ni ng of
the pa per. I cou l d s ee the teemi ng
pa tches of s ha d ow d r a g gi ng hi s
eyes l ower u pon hi s fa ce.
Ca r e to tel l me wha ts on you r
mi nd ? W hy you took ti me away
f r om
O h, I need ed a br ea k fr om the
nor m, he i nter j ected ha r s hl y,
the u niver s i ty l i f e i s ca tchi ng
u p to me. T hos e d a mned you th!
A l ways on the move. I j u s t pr ef er
to ta ke i t ea s y a na p wi thi n my
of f i ce s u f f i ces !
He wa s s ched u l ed on a s a bba ti ca l ,
a nd f or s ome r ea s on, he wou l d not
r evea l why he ma d e thi s d eci s i on.
I a s s u med he wa s wea r y, bu t hi s
eyes wou l d s ca r cel y f a l l u pon my
own tr a i l i ng of f. I t wa s a s i f he
wa s l ooki ng beyond me, avoi d i ng
a s peci fi c topi c br i mmi ng f r om
hi s mou th. However, I d i s pel l ed
the va g r a nt i d ea a nd wa i ted a
moment. T he toa s ter popped on
the cou nter.

I u n d er s ta n d , b u t i s nt th i s th e
r ea s o n why yo u to o k a s a b b a t i ca l
i n th e f i r s t p l a ce? To r el a x a b i t?
Yes, I m ea n , n o t q u i te. T h e
previous year I have been teaching
s en i o r s em i n a r s. M o s tl y j u s t
g u i d a n ce th e s tu d en ts co m p l ete
m o s t o f th e wo r k o u ts i d e o f c l a s s
a n yways
B u t yo u r b r o o d i n g h a s yet to
m a ke s en s e th es e p a s t f ew d ays.
T h er es s o m eth i n g o n yo u r
m i n d I k n ow i t to b e tr u e. I
r ef u ted .
My
husband
rose
wi th o u t
o b j ecti o n , a n d th a ts wh en I f u l l y
co m p r eh en d ed th e b r i m m i n g
n eed to s p ea k a tr u th th a t wa s
u n b ek n own s t to m e. H i s m o u th
o p en ed p a r ti a l l y, em i tti n g a
f r a g m en t o f a s yl l a b l e, yet wa s
n o t co m p l eted o r f o l l owed by
a n o th er wo r d . I n s i l en ce, h e
s te p p ed over to th e ca b i n et a n d
r u m m a g ed th r o u g h a l l o f th e p i l l
b o ttl es. H e s wa l l owed a co u p l e
o f a s p i r i n s d r y. H e h u n ch ed
over th e co u n ter, a n d wi th h i s
a r m s s o l i d i f i ed l i ke m a r b l ed
co l u m n s, g r o a n ed a u d i b l y. T h e
co nver s a ti o n cea s ed . I s i g h ed i n
co m p l i a n ce a s h e wa s h ed o f f h i s
p l a te a n d m o ti o n ed towa r d th e
f r o n t d o o r.
B y th e way, h o n ey, I s p o ke d own
th e h a l l i n a m a t ter-o f -f a ct to n e,
wh a t h a p p en ed to th e ch eva l
mirror?
O h , th a t. I t cr a cked h o r r i b l y
th e o th er d ay. I wi l l p u r ch a s e
b u t d ea r, I mu s t d e p a r t n ow.
G o o d bye.

Indie Affair

Up on th e echo of the doors fu mbl i ng l a tch, he

was g o n e, a nd a stal e ai r i mmed i a tel y f l ood ed
my h o m e. I coul d onl y ponder on hi s eyes
th ose h o r ribl y reddi sh orbs tha t r ef l ected
such a h ue i n whi ch a bul l wou l d envi s i on
up on th e fir st stab of the r a pi er. I s ens ed
a co n tinuin g stream of the a i r a nd wa l ked
towa rd th e doori t was not fu l l y s ea l ed s hu t.
T h e ch illy a i r ni pped my f l esh u nti l i t f el t d r y
a n d raw. O n ce the gust of ai r s ettl ed wi th the
l ockin g o f the cl asp, I di scer ned how the s u n
em an a tin g though the si del i g ht ex pos ed the
p ai ntin g o n the l eft-hand si d e. I t wa s f r a med
i n a luminum stock T he Scr ea m hu ng j u s t
shy o f th e wal l paper. I t was q u eer how the
a n g l e o f the l i ght i l l umi na ted the or a ng e
h u es, th us shadowi ng the fi gu r e bel ow. I ha d
m i xed em o tions towards thi s ca r i ca tu r e. U pon
th e drivin g of the fi nal nai l , the ma s ter pi ece
b ecam e triu mphant. I was u nner ved a t the
un can n y fa ce, the col or, and s ymbol bei ng
d i sp layed. It remi nded me si m pl y of too mu ch
d i sso n a n ce as i f i t was a voo d oo of a nci ent
ti m es p a st. However, as the yea r s went by,
I beca m e b eni gn towards i t, a s cr a z y a s tha t
so u nds. It became camouf l ag ed s o wel l tha t
ul ti m a tely I si mpl y never noti ced i t to a nd fr o
th e h o use. It became a fur ni shi ng of no eq u a l ,
f o r th e b eig enow faded yel l ow wa l l pa per
was b ut a la ck l uster back drop.
I f o un d so lace wi thout the nou r i s hment of
f o od a n d col l apsed wi thi n th e l ea ther cou ch.
I co n temp lated whi l e my bo d y mol d ed i nto
h i s figure, attempti ng to once a g a i n, become
wh ole with my husband of fi fteen yea r s. For
o nce, I wa s uncl ear as i n wha t ma nner to
a d d ress h im a for mi dabl e voi ce a nd cl a r i ty
I ha d n o t. T he words tumbl ed wi thi n my
eso ph a gus, and the passive r es tr a i nts of my
so u l p reven ted any sor t of s ol u ti on. T hen,
o u t o f a su dden, v i ndi ctive pl i g ht, I beg a n
to j u stify that i t was not i ndeed mys el f tha t
was awr y, b u t my husband. N ot once have I
strayed fro m the i deal i sti c v i ew of hi s l ovi ng
wi f e it wa s he that has chang ed r ecentl y!
I beg a n a sur vey for the com mon thr ea d to
th i s deb a cle, by l ook i ng i nto ou r pa s t. Fr om
th e in ce p tion of our rel ations hi p, he wa s
f ra n k in reveal i ng ever ythi ng s ha r i ng thos e
secrets th a t some woul d take to thei r g r ave. I
was quite the unassumi ng yo u ng woma n bu t
f el t it n e cessar y to acce pt the s kel etons i n hi s
cl oset. H e s poke of hi s fai l u r es the fi r s t:

Page 20

a n a ccou nt of a s s a u l t a s a yo u th th a t l a n d ed
hi m i n j a i l . Petty, yes, b u t th e k n owl ed g e o f
hi m wi el d i ng a h eav y h a n d wa s u n n er v i n g a t
fi r s t. He wa s a b s o l ved o f th e cr i m e u p o n h i s
ei ghteenth bir th d ay o f co u r s e, a n d i n my ey es,
the ma tu r i ty th a t co m es wi th th e p u r s u i t o f
a d octor a te h a l ved h i s yo u th f u l a n g s t u n ti l
i t wa s mi nu te. H e wa s q u i ck i n r evea l i n g h i s
pr evi ou s l y-fa i l ed r el a ti o n s h i p s th a t l ed h i m
to d r i nk mu lti p l e ti m es a week . A t f i r s t, a s
he wou l d s o h u m b l y a d m i t, h i s tenu r e wa s h i s
tr u mp ca r d , s wo o n i n g th e cyn i ca l b a r ten d er s
a nd i mpr es s i n g th e s o ci ety o f l i ter a r y s ava n ts.
He menti oned , i n ex p l i ci t d eta i l , o f h i s
a mor ou s r u n i ns b eh i n d th e a l l ey d u m p s ter
a fter the mid n i g h t s h i f t en d ed , wi th i n th e
l ofty bed r oom s a f ter b o ttl es o f wi n e a n d ta l k s
of cr i ti ci s m. Yet, th es e o ccu r r en ces wo u l d
l eave hi m hol l ow a n d th e en s u i n g d e p r es s i o n
wou l d over c o m e h i m . H i s n ewl y-a d o r n ed
tenu r e pos i tio n b eca m e a t r i s k , h i s s tu d en ts
compl a i ned , yet to s o m e a b s u r d i r r a ti o n a l i ty,
he wou l d conti nu e th i s h a b i t co n ti nu ed th u s
u p u nti l the d ay h e i n tr o d u ced h i m s el f to m e
a t the cor ner o f th e b a r.
I s hook my h ea d v i o l en tl y i n o r d er to d i s p el
the l u ci d vi s i o n s o f my h u s b a n d . I wa s b u t
i nfa tu a ted a ll over a g a i n wi th th e n i g h t a t
the ba r, tha t I u s u r p ed a n y a n d a l l ef f o r ts
a t f i nd i ng a f o r em en ti o n ed co m m o n th r ea d . I
wa s ta r r yi ng o f f, a n d I k n ew th a t th e a b i l i ty
to d ef l a te th e s i tu a ti o n r em a i n ed i n my
compl a cent a tten ti o n away f r o m th e m a tter.
I tr i ed to s tay o ccu p i ed wi th cr o s s wo r d s
a nd tel evi s i o n b r ow s i n g , yet th e i d ea o f my
hu s ba nd of f a n d a b o u t i n th i s s ta te o f m i n d
concer ned m e s ti l l . G r a n ted , h i s wi ts wer e
s ti l l i nta ct, h owever th er e wa s n o g u a r a n tee
he wou l d no t tu m b l e i n to th e o b l iv i o n h e
once conq u er ed .
T he hou r s s wi f tl y p a s s ed a n d b ef o r e I k n ew
i t d i nner tim e h a d a r i s en v i a th e s u n s et
cl eavi ng the d r a b cu r ta i n s i n two d i s ti n ct
hu es. M y hu s b a n d h a d yet to r etu r n , a n d th e
contempl a ti o n o f my s ch em e h a d yet to b e
a r ti cu l a ted . I d eci d ed to d i s s i p a te s a i d s ch em e
enti r el y. M y g o a l wa s to b e a s nu r tu r i n g
a s pos s i bl e p r i o r t o h i s r etu r n . U s i n g my
d eta i l ed cook b o o k , I p r e p a r ed h i s f avo r i te
mea l wi thi n th e h o u r. I wo r ked f ever i s h l y,
u nawa r e of h i s even tu a l r etu r n . H owever,
the phone n ever r a n g th e d o o r n ever
opened . For n i n ety m i nu tes, h i s p l a te s a t a t

Indie Affair

ro om temp erature under the l one fi l a ment

h an gin g from the cei l i ng the a ppea r a nce
o f a va ca n t i nter rog ati on ro om l oomed i n
th e b a ckg round, unner v i ng me wi th a q u eer
sen s a tio n . Hence, my fear wa s tha t s u ch a
f eelin g wa s g oi ng to overcom e me fi na l l y. O n
th at n o tio n , I threw my body onto the cou ch
l i ke a disca rded puppet and s u ccu mbed to a
m i sera b le n ap.
I u nclo sed my bl oodshot eyes to a j os tl i ng a t
th e fro n t door. I was unawar e of the ti me,
b u t it wa s dark , and the l oomi ng s i l hou ette of
my h usb a n d was seen, creasi n g the moonl i ght
th r o ugh th e casement. My bod y r ema i ned
sti l l a s my ears, l i ke a bats s ona r, tr a ced hi s
ste p s fro m the foyer, to the k i tchen, a nd then
f i na lly, just feet away from the cou ch. I wa s
p ara llel to the back rest, breathi ng i n heavi l y
my own wa r mi ng breath. I detected hi s bod y
cl oser, yet coul d not hear h i s s te ps. I t wa s
a s i f h e too was i nhal i ng my r es pi r a ti on.
I beca m e insti l l ed wi th ri g or mor ti s. A ny
m om en t, I was expecti ng hi s h a nd to d es cend
tra n quilly upon my shoul der, thu s i n hopes
o f awa ken ing me from my fau x s l u mber, bu t
i t n ever a r rived. My anxi ety r ema i ned s ti l l ,
a s his fo o tste ps l ed hi m away, d own the ha l l ,
a n d in to o u r bedroomhe f i na l l y d eci d ed
to slee p withi n our chamber ! T he s ens a ti on
th at overca me my body pri or to s l u mber ha d
m an ifested wi thi n me ag ai n, thi s ti me, mor e
d ev i lish th a n before. I now wa s r a ti ona l i z i ng,
wi th a ll th e bei ng of my femi ni ni ty, tha t he
was in deed avoi di ng me on pu r pos e! M y mi nd
i g nited like kerosene and the cou ch beca me
a b l a z e with my furi ous i ntenti ons.
H owever, despi te my unfathoma bl e r a g e, my
d ocility wa s necessar y, for I ha d to per f or m
th e ra tio cin ati on that woul d d r ive the s ta ke
i nto th e h ear t of thi s mon s tr ou s a f f a i r. I
a ro s e with the gui l e of a mas ter f u l thi ef, a nd
without making a sound, scoured my husbands
b el o n gin gs around the house. Hi s bl a z er wa s
doubled over on a kitchen chair, so I r ummag ed
th r o ugh th e pockets. No magni f yi ng g l a s s wa s
n eed ed to di scover the cash i er r ecei pts of
g r a tuito us propor ti ons dee p wi thi n. I g awked
a t th e a mo unt wi thdrawnth e fi r s t of ma ny
cl u es I p resumed. My hands s cou r ed f or
m ore susp ects of i nfi del i ty, l i ke the cl a s s i c
l i p s tick o n the col l ar of hi s l a z y s hi r t u pon
th e b a n ister. Nothi ng. I du ti fu l l y d r es s ed
myse lf in a thi ck wool and cr e pt ou ts i d e,
kee p in g th e ner vous ti ck of my tr embl i ng

Page 21

ha nd s to a min i mu m u p o n th e d o o r k n o b. T h e
s ta l e g u s t wa s n ow s i g n i f i ca n tl y b i tter. H i s
a u tomobi l e d o o r wa s u n l o cked , s o I en ter ed
the l u mi nos i ty o f th e s tr e etl a m p ca s t a g h a s tl y
a u r a a r ou nd m e, m a tch i n g my s h a d ow a n d
br ea th to the a s p h a l t. I s a t i n to th e d r iver
s ea t, a nd a g ai n , s u n k i n to th e s h a p e o f my
hu s ba nd s per p etu a l f o r m . H er e I wa s cer ta i n
to f i nd the m o s t i n cr i m i n a ti n g ev i d en ce: th e
mi s pl a ced pa n ti es u p o n th e b a ck s ea t, th e
s mel l of Fr a n c o p h o n i c p er f u m e th a t s ti f l es
vi r gi n l u ngs. I over tu r n ed b r i ef ca s e, p a p er
ba g , ti s s u e b ox , a n d o th e r m i s cel l a n e o u s
g a r ba g e u nti l th e p l a cem en t o f ever y i tem wa s
a l i en. Nothi n g , a g a i n . M y ea r d r u m s p o p p ed .
M y enti r e S her l o ck i a n p r o ces s p r ov i d ed o n l y
one i tem of tr u th , b u t even th a t wa s va g u e
u nl es s my hu s b a n d p r ov i d ed c l a r i ty. I f el t
i ncr ed i bl y f oo l i s h .
I emer g ed g i n g er l y f r o m th e ca r, co n s o l i d a ti n g
my r ou te ba ck i n to th e l iv i n g i n wh i ch I b eg a n .
M y bod y s wayed u p r i g h t wi th tr e p i d a ti o n f o r
a f ew momen ts a s I a ccl i m a ted to th e wa r m th
once a g a i n, a n d a f te r my tea r d u cts th awed , I
beg a n to wa i l , l owl y a n d d ef ea ted . I ca s t o f f
my s l i pper s an d p r o p p ed my b o d y a g a i n s t th e
wa l l , f or mi ng a n a cu te wea k n es s. T h e tea r s
ca s ca d ed d own my f a ce, a n d I s o b b ed s i m i l a r l y
to my hu s ba n d th e p r ev i o u s n i g h t. H owever,
ther e wa s s om eth i n g b i z a r r e th a t ca u g h t my
eye u pon r a is i n g my h e a d to l evel . B ef o r e
me, s tood M u n ch s f i n es t s m ea r ed b eyo n d
bel i ef f r om my s a l ty tea r s. T h e to n es o f r ed
now s tr ea med l i ke b l o o d a n d i n ter m i n g l ed
wi th the f i g u r es co n tr a s ti n g co l o r a s i f h i s
eyes wer e now s cr ea m i n g d ea th . I t wa s n ow
s i gni f i ca ntl y a l ter ed , a n d j u s t th en my ea r s
popped a nd h u m m ed . I k n ew th e tech n i q u e
nowmy ability to solve this bur ning question
wa s bu t i n the k i tch e n th e en ti r e ti m e! I k n ew
wi th thi s, a n an s wer wo u l d b e r evea l ed a t l a s t.
M y f eet d r ove m e, m ech a n i ca l l y, th r o u g h th e
ki tchen f or th e p r a cti ca l i tem , a n d th en i n to
ou r bed cha m b er. T h a ts wh en I s aw h i m
vu l ner a bl e at l a s t. I s h u t th e d o o r f a i n tl y
behi nd me. U p o n th e b e d , wh i ch wa s el eva ted
s ome f ou r fe et a b ove th e f l o o r u p o n th i ck
wood en mem b er s, h e wa s wr a p p ed i n ti m a tel y
wi thi n the b l a n kets. T h e m o o n wa s i n f u l l
vi ew, for the cu r ta i n s wer e n o t d r awn d u e to
hi s a ppa r ent ex h a u s ti o n . H i s f a ce a p p ea r ed
col d , a s i f even i n s l u m b er, a n x i ety b l o a ted h i s
f i g u r e. I r ea li z ed th a t, a t l a s t, I n ow l o o m ed
over my hu s b a n d .

Indie Affair

Page 22

Jo na th a n .

thr ou gh!

A n en suin g si l ence.

Pl ea s e, d ea r, l et th e u n b i a s ed m o o n r evea l
a l l . Gl a nce th e k n i f e towa r d th e wi n d ow a n d
s ta r e wi thi n, f o r th er e yo u wi l l h ave yo u r
a ns wer.

My dearest husband, answer me, I demanded.

H e sh uff led around under n ea th. O ne eye
crea ked o p en.
W h a t is th e matter? I am tr yi ng to s l ee p.
h e reto r ted wi th an acerbated tone.
T h e sta tement became the ca ta l ys t of my
exa sp era te d soul . I j etti so ned u pon the
b ed , tea rin g my g own ag ai n s t a s pl i nter. I
b ecam e nude, straddl i ng hi m f r om movement
i n th e p ro cessa most amor ou s pos i ti on,
b u t n o th in g l i ke he expected . I br a nd i s hed
th e kn ife for mi dabl y from b ehi nd my ba ck.
H e screa med whi l e attempti ng to s wa t my
a r ms a side, but I was set i n concr ete wi th
d emo n ia ca l i ntenti ons.
Tell m e what youre hi di ng, thi s i ns ta nt! I
sh outed, un daunted
I a m b ut innocent, my dear M a d el i ne. Pu t
d own th is kni fe, pl ease. Let u s ta l k!
My a r m s received tensi on fro m hi s own now,
th u s twistin g the handl e dee p l y i nto my pa l m.
I was un willing to rel ease i t unti l they thu d d ed
up on h is cor pse. Among th e s tr u g gl e, he
sti f fen ed frowni ng suddenl y, emi tti ng a n
a ura o f so mber ness. He beg an to wee p, s l owl y
a t f irst, th en uncontrol l abl y, whi ch i n d oi ng
so, cra fted a metaphysi cal l an ce tha t pi er ced
th r o ugh th e dev i l festeri ng wi thi n me. O nce
a g a in , my b r ai n over tur ned wi thi n my s ku l l .
D o yo u wish to k now the ou tcome of the
m i r r o r in yonder cor ner? h e s a i d , br oken
i n-between s obs.
I no ddedthe k ni fe sti l l encr oa chi ng Dea th
overh ea d.
It did n o t break . T hat i s the onl y l i e I have
co mmitted. I but removed i t, f or you r own
sa ke.
T h e quizz ical l ook on my face mu s tve been
sur r ea l, fo r I fel t muscl es wi th i n my fa ce tens e
th at I p reviousl y have never fel t befor e.
D o tell m e now, or by God, I s ha l l r u n you

Du mbfou nd ed , I l ower ed th e k n i f e t o eye

l evel , ti l ted i t s i d eways a n d g l a n ced a t my
d ou bl e, bu t th i s d o u b l e wa s n o p h en o m en o n ,
i t wa s tr u l y me. I wa s i n d i s b el i ef I wa s d yi n g.
M y pu pi l s wi d en ed a s my f i n g er s ca r es s ed th e
pu s s -fi l l ed l eg i o n s r o o ted i n to my o n ce f a i r
cheeks. T he wr i n k l es tr i ck l ed b l o o d wh en I
s q u i nted , a nd j a u n d i c e i n f i l tr a ted my o n ce
vi br a nt eyes. I n s ta n tl y, my u n a f f ected s k i n
f l u s hed to the m o s t h o r r i d wh i te, l i ke th a t o f a
f r es hl y wa s hed l i n e n , a n d my b o d y co n tr a s ted
s tr ongl y a g a i n s t my h u s b a n d s h e a l thy, v i b r a n t
f l es h.
I d i d not wi s h to b ea r t h e n ews, M a d el i n e, b u t
you have d em o n s tr a ted th e wa n t f o r cl a r i ty.
T he phys i ci an s a l er ted m e i n co n f i d en ce, to
a bs ta i n f r om b ea r i n g th e h a r b i n g er u p o n yo u .
T he bu boni c l eg i o n s wer e b el i eved to h ave
s pr ea d to you r m o s t v i ta l o r g a n s, wh i ch a r e
beyond r e pa ir. B u t I , yo u r g a l l a n t h u s b a n d ,
a ttempted to d o wh a t I co u l d . I p u r ch a s ed f o r
you the f i nes t o f m ed i ca t i o n a n d o i n tm en ts
money cou l d b u y, a p p l yi n g th em to yo u i n
you r s l ee p, i n ter m i x i n g wi th yo u r m ea l s.
Yet, I beca me a f r a i d to s ta r e i n to th e eyes i n
whi ch I f el l in l ove wi th f i f teen yea r s a g o. I
a ba nd oned yo u a t th e m o s t p ivo ta l s tr etch ,
a nd f or tha t, I a m tr u l y s o r r y. B u t h er e we
a r e, over whel m ed wi th s tr i f e, a n d s eei n g yo u
i n thi s mood , a b o u t to s l ay m e wel l , I wo u l d
not g o a g a i ns t yo u , i f yo u ch o o s e to o b l i g a te
s u ch a n a cti o n . I l ove yo u u n ti l th e m o m en t
Dea th s wee ps yo u f r o m my u n waver i n g a r m s.
Hi s a bs ol u ti o n s h o o k th e f i b er o f my b ei n g. I
f el t exor ci s ed b eg a n to l o s e to u ch wi th r ea l i ty.
T he mons ter I b i r th ed , n ow d i m i n i s h ed i n to
a mol ecu l a r s u b s ti tu te. M y f l a cci d h a n d ,
l ower i ng the k n i f e, h a p h a z a r d l y g r a z ed h i s
a r m d r awi ng h i s b l o o d s l i g h tl y. I r a i s ed th e
ti p to my mou th , a n d I ta s ted th e es s en ce th a t
pu l s a ted thr o u g h h i m . H e wa s b i tter wi th i n ,
yet tr u e, a nd th a t wa s h i s p r o o f i n d eed . I f el t
on the ver g e o f a n i m p l o s i o n . T h e ex ten ts o f
my a cti ons wer e n o th i n g s h o r t o f m a n i a ca l
thi s cu r s ed d i s ea s e h a d d ef ea ted m e. W i th a
heavy s i g h, I s ta r ed a t Jo n a th a n , d i r ectl y i n to
hi s a pol og etic eyes.

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Page 23

T here i s but a phr a s e l ef t f or me to s ay, a s s o w h en we h el d o u r

hands tog ether u pon the a l ta r s o l ong a g o. I l ove yo u .
Wi th my l i ps pr onou nci ng the f i na l s yl l a bl e, I d r ew th e k n i f e cl o s e to
my chest and rol l ed off my hu s ba nd , bu t not onto my r i g h tf u l s i d e.
Johnathan screa med , knowi ng q u i te wel l my i nten ti o n s. H i s f i n g er s
barel y g razed my f l a nk, j u s t s hy of s avi ng wha t m ea g er p o r ti o n o f
my l i fe l i ng ered . Pea ce wa s ma d e, wi thi n ou r d eb a cl e a n d my own
mor tal i ty. As my ex tr emi ti es thu d d ed u pon the i m p er m i s s i b l e o a k ,
and my body s kewer ed onto the kni fe, the r ema i n d er o f my wa r m
bl ood vacated my bod y. M y neck cr a ned towa r d s th e wi n d ow, a n d wi th
the expul si on o f my f i na l br ea th, a s i ng l e bea m o f m o o n l i g h t th a t
dodg ed the sta r k s ha d ow of the bed r es ted u p o n my m o ti o n l es s
face, produci ng a hu e tha t mi mi cs tha t of a cr os s s ecti o n o f g l a s s.

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Page 24

Blinde d
By JoBee

by Devon West

smol.jobee

Bio:Jo Bee is a current 8th

grader who wants to go to
school for artistry. Jo Bee
draws for fun and friends and
posts on Instagram.

A Few Enticing Words To

Stimulate Contemplation:

Barmecide: (adj) giving only the illusion of

plenty; illusory
Sempiternal: (adj) Eternal, to last forever.
Cacoethes: (n) An urge to do something
inadvisable.
nayanika_niks

Bio: Nayanika Dey is from West

Bengal, India. She is currently
pursuing her Masters degree
in Econmics from IAI. She
loves to write and portrays
her works on her blog, Twitter,
and Instagram. Her works get
published and featured in
international magazines like
The Criterion.
She is a contributing writer
of many anthologies as well,
one of them being The Hall
of Poets Anthology. Her own
erotica poetry book os about
to release this year. She loves
reading John Keats and a die
hard fan of John Cusack and
Hugh Grant. She is a word
hoarder, guitarist, and pianist
in leisure.
www.nayanikadey.wordpress.
com

Fuscous: (adj) Dark and somber in color.

Beauty o f My S c ar s
By Nayanika Dey

Put me on f lame
Let me seize the fire
Within me & then
My empty mir ror will speak
the beauty in my scars
In ever y broken place in my body
Bridging all the g aps.

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Page 25

INDIE AFFAIRS
FEATURED ARTIST

Saf fr on
A small collaboration with a poet friend
led to us creating this beautiful Saffron
girl in writing, but after all the imagining,
I couldnt help, but bring her to life in
paint! Its also been a long ter m fantasy
of mine to live in a lag oon, next to a cave
and lots of wonderful f lora and fauna.

Indie Affair

Q : How has painting chang ed your life

and do you plan to pursue a career in
ar t?
A: Without ar t, Im pretty sure I would
exist as some shy and g r umbly little
creature in the cor ner. For me, painting is
often a medicinal process... transfor ming
any demo ns, I might have into something
positive and beautiful; it allows me to
just g et on with enjoying life! But mainly,
like most creative outlets, its just a g reat
way for me to ex press myself and the
things that inspire and define me.
...and yes! Absolutely, I would love to one
day make a living from my work. I might
be 85 by the time I g et to that stag e, but
Ill still c onsider that a success!
Q : W hat first called to your creative
expressio n and how did it develop to
painting such beautiful subject matter?
A: Honestly, I cant remember when
star ted creating...Ive been making a
m ess with paint and pens ever since I
can remember! A lot of my early teenag e
ar t was probably inspired by fantasy
books and films. Around the same time, I
joined a few online ar t communities and
became obsessed with all the amazing
digital ar t online, so I bought myself a
Wacom tablet and star ted leaning how to
paint with Photoshop and Corel Painter.
G rowing up I was always super shy and
had a tough time with self-confidence
and self-imag e - I was completely covered
in acne, and to this day I still have many
scars all over my body (which sucks
but has done wonders for my creative
m otivation haha!). Discovering inter net
si tes such as DeviantAr t was awesome,
though, it allowed me to share my work
and develop a new persona without it
being tainted by my appearance. By my
early 20s, I was aching to use real paint
ag ain, so I decided to teach myself to use
oil paints, which are now my absolute
favourite! T he colours are just insane!!
Reg arding subject matter, I think my
love of fantasy and my i ssues with selfimag e are really what sparked my interest
in painting the figure. Im also quite
m orbidly curious and intrigued by the
darker side of things, and so naturally,
combinin g these interests lead me to

PaPage 26

paint the beautiful but macabre creatures

in my ar tworks. Almost ever ything I paint
is a ref lection of emotion or an obsession
I have...sometimes just seeing a beautiful
combination of colours can inspire an idea,
other times its a long-ter m fascination in
something that I just cant g et enough of...
such as albi nism, and the f loral scars I
like to give my subjects! Im also lear ning
to be more spontaneous with my ideas,
colours and techniques, I think its pretty
fun to just paint and see where things end
up!
Q: Are you working on any projects?
A: Yes! Since I have a full-time job aside
from my painting, time is kind of scarce,
but I do the odd bits and bobs when I can...
cur rently, its working with an awesome
black metal band on their album cover.
Other than that Im just focusing on
building a decent collection of work to
exhibit and share.
Q: W ho are your favorite painters indie/
professional?
A: Its pretty hard to pin down specific
ar tists as there are so many people past and
present who amaze me, and Ill often g o
through phases of different styles I like.
However, anything with g org eous br ush
strokes, tex ture and colour is always a
winner, or anything with a dark twist! But
off the top of my head, I love the work
of Char maine Olivia, Michael Hussar,
Hoooook, Bao Pham, Klimt, Monet...
there are loads but its hard to remember
ever yone!
Q: Are you f/t with your ar tistr y?
A: Unfor tunately not, I work full time
as a textile print designer for a studio in
London, where I do commercial f loral
designs, but hopefully one day I will be
able to make a living from my painting!
Although, working with textiles does give
me the oppor tunity to tr y out different
styles, colours and techniques, so its
definitely been useful!
Q: W hat is your favorite season?
A: T here are things I love about all 4
seasons, but I would probably say Winter...
maybe its because I was bor n midwinter

Indie Affair

Page 27ge

in Febr uar y. I love the dark evenings (its

definitely better when queuing for gigs!!) and
the fresh air. W hen its bitingly cold outside,
sitting in the war m with blankets, candles,
hot d rinks and loved ones is the best feeling
ever! Also, being g oth and super pale, its
easier to maintain my spook y pallor.
Q: How do you relax when times g et tough?
A: Music! I really love g oing to see live music...
most g enres, but especially metal, its always
such a r ush to leap around and be stupid
with other filthy people! Also I really enjoy
reading, listening to science/hor ror podcasts,
g aming and g oing for adventures in nature!
Q: W ho is your favorite vintag e actor? Vincent
Price, Boris K arloff, Peter Cushing, Bella
Lug osi, etc...
A: T his is probably g oing to be the most
disappointing answer ever, but honestly, I
rarely watch old vintag e films...in fact, I only
recently bought a TV! M ostly when I have
spare time Im g aming and if I do ever watch
TV, its in the backg round and will probably
be a science documentar y or Har r y Potter!
Its not that I dislike vintag e films, but maybe
I need an experienced person to educate me!

Reg r et

S unshine

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Page 28

Kitten Fair y

Cour se

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Page 29

Ca r D o o r
By Lori Maclean

psychicchick
Bio: Lori MacLean is an artist,
writer and poet at heart who
lives just North of NYC. She
has been creating since she
was a small child. Her hope
is to write a novel before
this decade is done. For her,
poetry is a way of expressing
her feelings when she feels
otherwise powerless. When
shes not working at her
administrative
day
job,
she likes to use her down
time writing poetry on her
Hanxwriter app.

It wasnt any
par ticular moment
(ref lecting back)
that broke her
g entle hear t
into thousands of
glistening shiny
shards of what is,
now what once was,
but one word,
in retrospect, stuck
g enuf lect, we must
fair maiden, lest our
bodies tur n to dust...
the word was distr ust.

I See
By Carousel Musings

carousel.musings
Bio: Simply trying to capture
the world around me with
hopes it will resonate with
others.

T he whistle blew at ex actly 5 pm.

I lean ag ainst the tower looming behind me. My limbs are
tired, and the letters that are written ver tically on it bring
me comfor t. I wait until the s un sets and make my way
across the bridg e...
I find myself in front of a dusted, abandoned building
which stands three stories high before me. No one notices
the last rays of the sun illuminating a silhouette beyond
the boarded windows. I do. I cup my hands ag ainst the
window and look inside. T he silhouette in the shadows
star ts expanding. I jump back in sur prise as it se parates into
three. I look behind me, checking to see if anyone passing
by notices. T he street is empty.
I tur n my attention back to the silhouettes in the window.
T hey stand a few feet away from each other. W hat are they?
W ho can they be? I continue watching as they star t moving
from side to side. Eventually, they star t spinning.
My eyes widen in shock. T he silhouettes become clearer,
solid, and still. A couple and a small boy stand in the middle
of the room. T he left side of the couples faces are covered
in scars and bur ns. T he left sid e of the little boys face is
in a per manent Chelsea g r in.
W hat happened to them? Were they tenants of the
building long ag o? Or were they visitors in the right place
at the wrong time?

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Page 30

Blind Faith

Devon West
Bio: Devon West is the author
of The Wild Type. Although
her medium of choice is
usually language, she also
expresses her art visually, her
subject matter ( strangers)
remains the same. Her work
explores obscure emotions,
obsessive tendencies, time
and its absence; manias that
are at once disturbing and
mentally paralyzing. Isolation,
reoccurring nightmares. The

T his is a small study in charcoal and acr ylic. T he

theme emotionally explored has to do with blind
faith in a moment of solitude and apparent darkness
where the futur e is uncer tain, and the best thing
we can do is remain calm in some ways this means
closing ourselves off from the ever-present chatter
and pollution of imag es from the world.

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Page 31

Tomor r ows Sa c r ific e

By Lotti Du Soir

lottidusoir
Bio: Im a whiskey drinking,
country music listening girl,
who has a cat called Memphis.
Damn my parents have got to
be proud ...

Her kiss was urgent against his lips

She needed to know the dark desire hidden within his soul
The lingering demise behind his blue eyes
She saw the future in a bright flash between falling stars
How his hands could rip out her heart
One quick stab to the chest
A midnight bloody mess
His hands gripping around her throat
As he pressed himself against her
Claiming her as his own
Fe e l i n g t h e l i f e d r a i n f r o m h e r b o d y
As her soul began its descent into the unknown
In her vision, he kissed her lips
Claiming her life without hesitation, without remorse
The vision ended as her lips finally parted from his
A smile rolled across his swollen lips
Satisfied for the moment
Hungry for more
She knew that sur vival would last until tomor row
Her choice was made before the sun fell on the horizon
To g e t h e r , i n t e r t w i n e d b e n e a t h t h e f a l l i n g m o o n
They ravished each other
Savouring the sweet taste of pure lust
Knowing he would be at his weakest laying in damp sheets
S h e k e p t h e r d a d d y s p i s t o l o n h e r b e d s i d e t a b l e
She was no more than flesh wrapped around bones
Ever ything had come at a price
A price she was willing to pay
The Devils Mark burnt against her skin so long ago
A hollow place within her soul
T he elixir of her life came at the price of love
To s e e h e r o w n d e a t h i n h i s i n h u m a n e y e s
S h e k n e w h e w a s t h i s y e a r s s a c r i f i c e
To k e p t t h e i m m o r t a l i t y b u r n i n g b r i g h t

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Page 32

Witch
By The Illusionists Insight

For centuries they have confused us with others,

Assigning names with little meaning,
theillusionist_insight
Bio: Twenty-two years old
and I cannot lie. Sometimes I
feel as old as the dirt path on
which I walk each day. I have
come to learn that my soul is
one with the elements. Hence,
words strung into rhymes
and sentences breathing life
have lent me a place to call
home. These pieces weave
the illusions in my head, the
doorway to escape the world
of reality at a simple touch of
a pen. I exist in the mundane
world as a Dental student
seeking to put smiles on faces
in real time, from my Guyanese
heart to yours.
Wordpress Blog:
theillusionistinsight
through yours.

Enchantress weve been called,

For its tr ue we have been known to lure a man or two,
Conqueror they scream,
Spirits our allies doing our bidding each night,
Necromancer the worst,
For we care not for the dead even though the cower in
fright,
Look beyond broomsticks, cauldrons and cobwebs on all
Hallows Eve,
Ever y woman is a witch,
Beware her spells and deeds.

Twitter: @TheillusionistSR

Entrance
By Ciara Watson

LovelyOctober
Bio: I am an inspired spirit
living a human experience.
La Famiglia is everything, and
my two gorgeous daughters
are my universe. Born and
raised in California, with
gypsy fantasies to travel the
world. Im a student aspiring
to be an international English
teacher. Entrepreneur and
small business owner of a
health and wellness product
company. Art, poetry, singing,
dancing and connecting to
high energy frequencies are
my fancies.

T h e sca r ce l i g h t l i ke b ur sts o f g o l d en g a l a x i es i n th e b l a ck s k y,
l ea d yo u d ee p er i n to th e d i m en si o n s th a t o p en f o r H a l l ows n i g h t.
A sen se o f d a n g er a n d exci tem en t f i l l o u r s o u l s f o r th e env i r o n m en t
to d evo ur th i s n i g h t i s a f ul f i l l m en t to th e exch a n g e o f s p i r i tu a l p ower.
S o m e i n ten tl y p r ovo ke th e d a r k n es s to i nvo ke m a l i ci o u s n es s,
wh i l e so m e si m p l y f o l l ow tr a d i ti o n to en j oy th e d el i ci o u s n es s.
L et th i s ti m e b e wh a t i t must so th a t ea r th m ay h ave b a l a n ce.
O cto b er i s th e ti m e o f yea r th a t we a l l p o s s es s en ch a n tm en t.

Indie Affair

Page 33

Defia nt Jo y
By Angela Hinkle

angela7022
Bio: My name is Angela. I live
in Austin, Texas. I am a mom of
2 and a wife of 1. My passion
is writing and photography. I
hope you enjoy my work.

Indie Affair

Page 34

An excer pt fr om Steve E vans ne w bo o k

Weeping Willow: D addy s Ange l

Coming October 22, 2016

PRE-ORDER NOW!!!!
h t t p s : / / w w w. a m a z o n . c o m /
Weeping-Willow-DaddysSteve-Evans-ebook/dp/
B01L0IXCNC

A beau tifu l little girl a n d a smilin g a n d

content wife,
All that was to r n fro m me in a sin gle
night. N ow a ll I h ave is a n emp ty h o use
that I loathe. I h ave a p la n , a way to ma ke
it all s top. T h e h o r rib le n igh tma res th a t
plag u e m e wh en I slee p a n d wh en I a m
wake T his must sto p !
I need to Slee p !
D r u nken B li ss!
It will bring me p ea ce, my fin a l p ea ce if I
play it ou t just righ t. If th e demo n ess will
leave m e be. O th ers h ave differen t p la n s
for m e, bu t wh a t o f my p la n s? W h a t o f my
Obliv ion?
Ju s t le t m e slee p !
I had a happ y life, I h a d a wife, a n d
D addys Ang el to give me h ugs to ma ke it
all ju s t rig ht

Shadow s
By Arija Ione

arijaione

Bio: ~ admirer of the mind,

lover of words and all the
things hideously beautiful.

T hrou gh the da rkn ess

I s tand
u pon broken bran ch es
Withou t the no ise
of s o m any cries
of fear.
D au ntles s ar ms
reached out
to tou ch
to s care
Id wait and see
like people do
lis tening to the cries
and find myself
there am ong s t the sh a dows
of night.

Indie Affair

Page 35

Fulfilled
By Janine D.

josameys.Words
Bio: Accountant by day; single
mom of 3 and soccer coach
of 17 by night; writer/poet/
incessant babbler in between.
Keep
dreaming
because
without our dreams, we are
nothing. Never pass up the
chance to say I love you.

43 years in
and finally fulfilling
my lifelong dream
Not even All Hallows Eve
just yet
and already
three children in pieces
and another ten
are missing
Who knew
working in a haunted house
could be so rewarding?

Paper Pla ces, par t two

By Kyle ODonnall

od_writer
Bio:

Writer, Photographer,
Author, Father.

We keep making the same mistakes over and over again then we set
it all on fire, burn it to ash, only to sort it all out and try again. We
scrawl on crumpled piece weve thrown away a dozen times only
to try and find the us weve left behind. What we really feel in our
minds, here in these paper places. Where pain and hope have tear
smudged faces of the little versions of ourselves that have long
gone silent, so we pick up our pens, trying and dying again in our
efforts to give voice to things we only know under a moon that
illuminates our fucking paper places.
Where the heart, it constantly races and the thoughts always seem
to chase it. We toil, and we try to find the meaning in a sky thats
gone starless under the ever-shifting clouds here. So we erase it and
try to replace it. Too fucking tired even to face it anymore. Here
in our own private paper places, we hope one day to leave behind.

Indie Affair

Page 36

Running With Sc isso r s

By Rasham

truth_or_dark
Bio: Rasham writes a bit of
everything with the main focus
on poetry and short stories.
His Edge Of Madness. poetry
series is available now on
Amazon.
Fb: Rasham Blanding

I had been a bad week. A week

so bad i n fact, that by Fri day
eveni ng al l I wanted to do was
ki l l peopl e...and so I di d. I
tur ned on my Xbox and went
45-3... For those not fami l i ar
wi th shooti ng g am es, 45 ki l l s,
and three deaths i s spectacul ar.
I wouldnt say that I was a g amer,
or that g ami ng was l i fe. To be
honest, i f I coul d cheat i n a
g ame, I woul d, and i f i t wasnt
possi bl e, I pl ayed for fun. I had
begun to pl ay qui te frequentl y
and l atel y g am i ng had become
my soci al l i fe.
I had work fri ends, but outsi de
of that they were too busy wi th
thei r ki ds, or si gni fi cant others,
or out par tyi ng harder than my
anxi ety can handl e to hang out
wi th m e, so I rarel y saw them
outsi de of work.
T here were pl enty of other
peopl e out there besi des the

p eo p le at wo r k , b ut I d id nt car e
much f o r m eetin g o r talk in g to
n ew p eo p le.
M ayb e it was all th e sto r ies th e
girls at work told me about their
love lives g ettin g in to my h ead .
M ayb e I was just lo n ely, b ut
f o r wh atever r easo n , I d ecid ed
to b uy a g am in g h ead set. W ith
it, I g o t a lo t o f atten tio n
f r o m th e m ales in th e lo b b ies,
alo n g with ever y o th er g ir l o r
p r e p ub escen t p r an k ster with a
m ic, an d I so o n f o un d myself
b o r ed an d b eg an f o r th e f ir st
tim e o p en in g up to str an g er s.
Q uite o f ten I wo uld jum p o n
th e m ic to sh ar e r an d o m sto r ies
with r an d o m str an g er s an d
th en listen to wh at th ey h ad
to sh ar e. So cializin g was much
easier o n lin e, an d I b eg an to
g r ow ver y co m f o r tab le with my
an o n ym ity. I b eg an to cr ack in g
in ap p r o p r iate jo kes, scr eam in g

Indie Affair

at my i d i o t tea mma tes wh en they screwed

u p o r s a n g wh a tever I was l i steni ng to
my tea m if n o o n e h a d a nythi ng el se to
s ay. A t times I migh t h ave even been
o b n ox i o u s. T h a t wa s un ti l fate put me
in a l o b by with sin gin gsor row_926 and
we j u s t clicked.
We wo u l d b lo ck o u t th e other pl ayers,
ta l k i n g o n ly to ea ch o th er whi l e pl ayi ng
and sometimes, chatting in private lobbies
co n s i s ti n g o f ju st th e two of us. Some
n i g h ts we wo uld stay u p unti l sunri se.
We h a d kn own ea ch o th er a l i ttl e l ess
th a n a week, a n d I felt like we knew each
o th er f o r yea rs. I kn ew ever ythi ng there
wa s to k n ow a b o u t sin gingsor row_926
exce p t. . . h is n a me o r wh a t he l ooked l i ke,
o r wh er e in th e wo rld h e was l ocated...
co m e to th in k o f it, I rea ll y di dnt know
mu ch a t a ll a b o u t th e guy that I had
f a l l en .
T h en o n e day I didnt hear from
s in g i n g s or row_926. We had g one from
ta l k i n g ever yday to me n ever knew when
h e wo u l d b e o n . H is o nl i ne presence
b eca m e s po ra dic. So me weeks he was on
ever yd ay, o th er weeks I onl y saw hi m
o n th e weeken d. So me days he was on
al l d ay, o th ers o n ly fo r a n hour or 2. I
wa s u n a b l e to fin d a p a tter n after weeks
o f b ei n g h is frien d a n d pl ayi ng cat and
mo u s e wi th h im.
I h a d a l ot to say to sin gingsor row_926,
b u t n o way to a ctua lly say i t and not the
co u r a g e to sen d my feelings to hi m i n
a m es s a g e. I g ave myself pe p tal ks and
dr a n k l i q uid co u ra g e...I di d anythi ng I
co u l d th i nk o f th a t migh t have hel ped m e
s u m m o n th e co u ra g e to send a messag e
to s i n g i n gso r row_926. It may have been
week s, b u t I fin a lly h a d the courag e. I
lo g g ed o n I saw th a t I h ad j ust m i ssed
s in g i n g s or row_926 a n d h e was off l i ne. I

Page 37

opened my messen g er to d r af t a m essag e

and saw that I alr ead y h ad o n e f r o m
si ngi ngsor row_ 9 2 6 , wh ich was str an g e
because we always just sp o ke.
W hat al so h ad b een str an g e was th e
attachment th at h e h ad sen t. I clicked o n
it thinking that maybe singingsor row_926
was sendi ng a p ictur e o f h im self, b ut
rather he sen t a p ictur e o f a d o g. A
rather gi rl y lo o k in g p o o d le f o r a vo ice
as dee p as his, b ut it was cute in th at
i t remi nded m e o f my own p o o d le. T h e
next day I h ad nt m an ag ed to catch
si ngi ngsor row_ 9 2 6 o n lin e, b ut ag ain h ad
a messag e fr o m h im . T h is tim e an aud io
fi l e of a dog b ar k in g. I tr ied to d elete
the vi deo, but a n o tif icatio n was tellin g
me si ngi ngs o r r ow_ 9 2 6 was n ow o n lin e
stopped m e. Just as th e aud io m essag e
vacated my i n b ox , an o th er m essag e cam e
i n.
I cl i cked on th e m essag e, th en o n th e
fam i l i ar paper clip ico n . It was a p ictur e
of a ssevered p aw an d a b lo o d -so aked
l eash. T he i m ag e m ad e m e sick to my
stomach, and I wo n d er ed wh at k in d o f
si cko si ngi n g so r r ow_ 9 2 6 was an d h ow
I had mi ssed an y sig n s o f it ear lier. N o
matter how har d I f o ug h t it, M y eyes wer e
drawn back to th e tv scr een . T h e im ag e
was sti l l op en an d I n ow r ealized th e
name on the co llar was Peb b les. . . W h en
I l ooked cl osely, I saw th e d esig n o n th e
bottom drawer o f th e d r esser lo o ked
fam i l i ar al so an d scr eam ed PEBBL ES.
at the top of my lun g s. I waited all o f
10 seconds an d wh en Peb b les I d id nt
see or hear him co m in g d own th e stair s
I g rabbed the clo sest weap o n to m e; a
pai r of sci sso r s an d r an up stair s af ter
hi m .
***
Honeydi p223 p r o b ab ly th o ug h t th at I
was dodgi ng h er, avo id in g h er f o r week s,

Indie Affair

Page 38

b u t i n f act, it wa s q uite the opposi te. I

h a d s tayed clo se to h er. I n a m otel j ust
a f ew m inu tes away fro m her apar tm ent
co m p l ex . It wa s fro m th ere that I set up
th e f a ke a cco un t a n d, unbeknownst to
h er, s p yed o n h er with bi nocul ars. I had
b een s p en din g a lo t o f ti m e g etti ng to
H o n e yd ip 223...studyin g her...stal ki ng
her. She was a creature of habit and didnt
mu ch ever devia te fro m her routi ne. A
l o n el y r o u tin e th a t a lmost made ki l l i ng
h er f eel u n sp o r tsma n like to m e. Had i t
n o t b een fo r th e da rkness taki ng over
my i n n er vo ice a n d whi speri ng sweet
n o th i n g s in to my ea r, I probabl y woul d
h ave l eft a fter h ea ring her scream
Peb b l es! a t th e to p o f her l ungs.

her i n the face with my f r ee h an d an d tr y

to push her away with my k n if e h an d .

I b et s h e wo u ld h ave been rel i eved to

fi n d o u t th e do g wa s fin e and the pi cture
wa s j u s t to lure h er u p stai rs, but...though
I h a d g o tten b etter a t control l i ng my
da r k n es s, I wa snt qu ite in control at the
mo m en t. In stea d o f leavi ng and l etti ng
l ive, I l eft h er b edro o m and stood at the
to p o f th e sta irs. Sh e came r unni ng up
th e s ta i r s b lin dly in to the dark. Bl i ndl y
i n to my b la de. I b ro ugh t the kni fe down
wi th th e in ten t o f sta b b i ng honeydi p223
i n th e n eck, b ut it wa s dark and hard for
me t o s ee a n d wh a t I thought was her
n eck wa s a ctu a lly h er shoul der.

N or mal l y seri al k iller s take tr o p h ies, b ut

I l eft one for H o n eyd ip 2 2 3 . I sup p o se
i t was an even tr ad e, th o ug h . . . I co uld
work wi th th e n am e Peb b les. It wasnt
a ter ri bl e name f o r a sm all d o g an d th e
m otel that I was stayin g at d id allow
pets.

H o n e yd ip 223 screa med and g rabbed my

wr i s t. With a g rip much strong er that
I wo u l d h ave exp ected out of her, she
h el d my wrist in p la ce and rai sed a pai r
o f s ci s s o rs. H er b ein g a r m ed caught m e
co m p l etely o ff gua rd. For a m om ent I
fel t h ow my p revio u s victi ms must have
a n d k i n d o f p a n icked.
H o n e yd ip 223 wa s th e fi rst person to
fi g h t b a ck, a n d I p a n icked a bi t; the onl y
th i n g I co uld th in k to do was to punch

T he
m ove
was
successf ul,
b ut
Honeydi p223 wo n b o th my k n if e an d h er
sci ssors, but lo st h er b alan ce an d wen t
crashi ng head over h eels d own th e stair s.
I fol l owed hon eyd ip 2 2 3 d own wh er e sh e
l ay sl um ped i n a g r owin g p o o l o f h er own
bl ood at the base o f th e stair s. W ith th e
l i ght from the liv in g r o o m , I co uld n ow
see that she had lan d ed o n th e b lad e o f
her sci ssors wh ich stab b ed h er th r o ug h
the chest. A scen e so p er f ect, I h ad to
l eave i t undi stur b ed o th er th an wip in g
my pri nts off th e k n if e th at h ad stab b ed
her shoul der an d h an d in g it b ack to h er.

Indie Affair

Page 39

Black Dahl ia
By Morgan May

morganmay19

Bio: An aspiring artist, just

beginning to discover and
experiment with my painting
style, while trying to find the
beauty in all this darkness. Im
in love with art of every form,
constantly seeking inspiration
and finding a release in it.
Everything was beautiful and
nothing hurt.

Indie Affair

Page 40

royalintegrity

Bio: Royal Integrity is a

collective that is dedicated
to promote self-love, selfacceptance, and self-respect
in a world where its cooler to
hate yourself. We are willing
to challenge and silence
the voice of society telling
us we are unworthy to be
heard because we werent
born a certain way. We have
free monthly motivational
newsletters to help you get
through the month, and we are
always open for submissions
of art, music, written pieces,
photography and testimonials
of self-love.
Our
personal
challenge
is to shift our audiences
perspective, even if its just
for a second. We want them
to see who they truly are,
Royalty, Queens and Kings
of this generation, ready to
conquer and be heard.
Visit www.royalintegrity

Bring Me Your Br oken Bones

By Siddharth Chakraborty

Bring me your suffering.

The rattle roar of broken bones.
Bring me the riot in your heart.
Angry, wild and raw.
Bring it all.
Im not afraid of the dark,
I only fear my demons,
And they will not devour me,
Dressed as one of their own.

Indie Affair

Page 41

INTO THE ABY SS I GO

Feyness, written by E.S . Car ter
Reviewed by Cynthia Bernal

poetry_goddess88

C an you lear n to breathe

underwater when you find someone
wor t h drowning for? Q u ote
f r o m the cover of Feynes s.
T h e book opens u p with a g lim ps e
into the mind of the main character,
Faye, with a war ning to the reader
to s te p away from the book if
yo u are of a s ens itive dis pos ition.
T h is novel is a s tandalone work
o f a dark natu re, and it fu lfills
i ts initial war ning/pr om is e.
T h e ink y de pths of this novel coat
th e s k in of the reader and fu lly
i m m ers e you in the world that
C ar ter has s o brilliantly created.
Fr om the beg inning, the reader is
within the emotional walls of Faye.
Her world is one of ownership and
p o is on. A dau g hter, a prince s s in
th e crim inal world, s ets for th on
h er jou r ney. She is pu s hed into
th e role by her biolog ical father.
H er wor th is only valu ed as her
f ather s ees fit, and s he is now a
valu able tool in the m achinations
an d neg otiations of others.

Sh e must lea r n to co n quer th e

seedy un derb elly in o rder to
sur vive. H er so ul, h er p sych e, h er
b o dy a re a ll de p en den t up o n h er
a da p ta tio n to th e da rkn ess th a t
sur ro un ds h er. C a r ter h a s sp un
a fa n ta stica l ta le o f cr uelty a n d
crime a n d p a ssio n . T h e emo tio n a l
trig g ers in th is n ovel a b o un d,
b ut if yo u h ave a th ick sh ell, yo u
ca n ta ckle th em a ll a n d co n quer.
It is wo r th it. A s so o n a s I slid
to a n ew p a g e p a st th e cover o n
my Kin dle a p p, I wa s lo st to th e
crea tio n s p ut to g eth er by C a r ter.
I cried with Faye, screa med with
Faye, h un g ered with Faye, a n d
died with Faye. T h e emo tio n a l
turb ulen ce fro m o n e ch a p ter to
th e n ext kee p s th e rea der o n edg e
a n d en th ra lled.
To quo te C a r ter, I h ave fo un d
a n ovel wo r th drown in g fo r
a n d in to th e a byss, I wen t with a
smile o n my fa ce. A s a rea der I
co n n ected with Faye, th e cen tra l
ch ess p iece in th is g a me o f p a in ,
wh en sh e sa id, I a m just a s much
a p riso n er; own ed, b a r tered, dea d
in side.
I b ite my to n gue in o rder n o t
to revea l to o much , just a tea se
so th a t yo u may click o n yo ur
eb o o k rea der a n d down lo a d
to day. I kn ow th a t I h ave it, a n d
I ca nt wa it to g et my h a n ds o n
th e p hysica l b o o k. It will h o ld
a p la ce o f h o n o r; E S C a r ter h a s
ste p p ed o ut o f th e p roverb ia l
b ox o f yo ur typ ica l rea d, a n d sh e
do es n o t disa p p o in t.

Indie Affair

Page 42

SimpleTr uth
By: Micala Royal

sevensouldeep

Bio: Micala Royal wrote her

first poem with her toes.
As a young girl, she quickly
discovered that dance, being
a natural or instinctive form
of creative self-expression
and
individuality,
would
save her. A self-proclaimed
bunhead-for-life, Micala
studied classical ballet for
over fifteen years and trained
in St. Petersburg, Russia prior
to hanging up the tutu. She
needed a new language for
self-expression, and this time,
she would use words.
During her last year of
undergraduate studies in
Political Science, Micala
began a torrid love affair
with political philosophy
and developed an unhealthy
addiction
for
dissecting
philosophical arguments and
theories. Thomas Hobbes
Leviathan, coupled with
weekly doses of Aristotelian
and Machiavellian works,
can be blamed for Micalas
descent down the rabbit hole,
which resulted in a masters
degree specializing in political
philosophy from the University
of Alberta.
Micala and her husband
are creating a peaceful
and inspired life together
in Western Canada, where
Micala is a full-time proposal
writer for an architectural
and creative design studio. If
shes not working on proposal
submissions, you can find her
writing melancholic poetry
and prose at her favourite
hookah lounge, obsessing over
the somber meditations of the
Graveyard Poets, conversing
with angels and plants,
collecting black clothes and
tattoos, and contemplating
the complexities and dualities
of human nature.

We had an u nexpected gu es t today. By fa r, th is wa s th e

clos es t encou nter I ve had with th is b ea utiful crea ture.
Fearles s and s o ver y cu riou s, he stayed with us fo r a
s hor t while, ventu ring clos e enough fo r us to a dmire h is
incredible plu m ag e, noble s tatu r e, a n d immen se siz e.
D eem ed by m any cu ltu res as harb in g ers o f p owerful
s ecrets, the Raven is often v ie wed a s a co mmun ica to r o f
u nveiled mys teries.
Many associate this highly intellig ent bird as the messeng er
of ill om ens and death bas ed on sup erstitio n , lo re, a n d
mytholog y; for others, they re presen t kn owledg e a n d
tr u th. Ju ng, him s elf, believed that th e Raven symb o liz ed
the s hadow s elf or the dark s ide o f th e h uma n p sych e. In
balance, ack nowledging this dark side, we ca n effectively
com mu nicate with both halves o f o urselves, wh ich
facilitates trem endou s wis dom .

Indie Affair

Page 43

Astray
By Jessica Vieira

corva.de.obsidiana
Bio: Tangled by the demands
of physicality and the pull
to creativity; duality for me
explained. Co-Author of The
Rising, dark poetess/prose
writer, Editor-in-Chief and
co-founder of Indie Affair
Magazine. An artist honing
my craft, finding the pathway

For midable opponent, this continuance evolved from inception,

like waves of the ocean castigate against silken flesh.
Yet, I stand .
Essence deemed callous given the actualization of chaos.
Obloquy upon my being alone.
This creation without Genesis - claret brimming though this vessel;
not one other holding similarity. Because of this, I am lost.
Atonement for a life perpetuating contrition and lament.
Expending all I possess, when it is inadequate, what next?
I am forsaken.
Admonition received far too late to save from tor ment.
Shrouding myself with a darkened cloak Obsidian revers this soul and sorrow became home.

Indie Affair

Page 44

Heavens not a place f or me

By Precious Oboh

Precious Oboh

Bio: Precious Oboh is a creative and

passionate writer of all genre of
poetry. He has works forthcoming
in
other
avenues,
including
Frameless Sky, The Mamba Journal,
and Undertow Tanka Review. Hes
has both Bachelors and Masters
Degrees in History from Ambrose
Alli University and University of
Benin, Nigeria, respectively.

W hen I was bu t a lad,

Heaven was all I dream t of
I s aw mys elf walk ing on heavens sta ir s.
I dream t of ros es at my feet
Mu s ic per vading the heavenly air
My cu p over r u nning with wine
From the fines t wine pres s.

Saintly m aidens at my s er v ice,

Pou ring perfu m ed oil on my head
K is s ing my feet ,
And clothed m e in the fines t
Robe and decked in g old jewels.

B u t as I g row older,
I realize Heave ns not a place
For m e bu t ju s t an im ag ination.

B ehind the hills, hu ed in g reen

W here the birds s ing s in the Mor n ,
A place of lau g hter and m er rim en ts
T here lies my little cot of war m th

I cou ld take a g aze u p in the s k y

And adm ire the heavens,
B u t, heaven is not a place for m e.

Here, I have fou nd my paradis e

Heavens bu t no place for m e
Even the heavens cou ld tes tify.

Indie Affair

Page 45

K atashi - T he End Of T he Wor ld

By Gabe Acosta

gabe_witmonger

Bio: Linguist & Graphic Designer

Artist, Philosopher, Educator and
Entrepreneur...
I like writing articles about
linguistics, Im an avid reader, artist,
conlanger. I love good Whiskey and
BBQ Parties with friends and family.

T his ar t piece was created fo r a n iO S z o mb ie

g am e. T he hero K atas hi h a s to clea r th e city
of zom bies and res tore o rder to th e n ow
des troyed m etropolis.

Cr edit For Ima ges Belongs To:

Un less otherw ise stated the i mages used i n thi s magaz i ne w er e r e post ed f r om
the fo llo wi ng si tes.
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Cover Painting by
HESTER TATNELL

THANK
YOU