hindsight issue one
DESCRIPTION
"Her body carries clouds all the way home." This issue is the first zine ever released by Hindsight which showcases various work created by emerging contemporary photographers, artists and writers. 44 Pages in total, showcasing 6 photographers, 3 artists and 5 writers.TRANSCRIPT
HINDSIGHT
HINDSIGHT
01
FRONTBACK COVERIMAGE
erIN alISe borzak
CURATEDNaTalIe NG
W hindsightzineblogspotcom
by Sam Ross
ldquoHer body carries clouds all the way homerdquo
bodmiddoty lanmiddotguagenoun
[mass noun]The conscious and unconscious movements and postures by which
attitudes and feelings are communicatedldquoHis intent was clearly expressed in his body languagerdquo
by P
ia W
ong
Silhouette by Pia Wong
Back up now for airstaccato breath wersquoll partakeour footsteps are their own racethis escape was never going to beone steered straightWe let our hands become grazed with time and passion and endless stories breathe in deep smell this tainted airwersquoll force every love-note restrain every carebeacons of shining burnt and rusted youthour smiles are quaking philosophiesand our fingers are trailing secrets Stop slow done now erase the yearsback up now for airbefore life drowns us allhellipSoothe your dried out skin your aching limbsYoursquore already alive my dear
ndash Loren Wann
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
HINDSIGHT
01
FRONTBACK COVERIMAGE
erIN alISe borzak
CURATEDNaTalIe NG
W hindsightzineblogspotcom
by Sam Ross
ldquoHer body carries clouds all the way homerdquo
bodmiddoty lanmiddotguagenoun
[mass noun]The conscious and unconscious movements and postures by which
attitudes and feelings are communicatedldquoHis intent was clearly expressed in his body languagerdquo
by P
ia W
ong
Silhouette by Pia Wong
Back up now for airstaccato breath wersquoll partakeour footsteps are their own racethis escape was never going to beone steered straightWe let our hands become grazed with time and passion and endless stories breathe in deep smell this tainted airwersquoll force every love-note restrain every carebeacons of shining burnt and rusted youthour smiles are quaking philosophiesand our fingers are trailing secrets Stop slow done now erase the yearsback up now for airbefore life drowns us allhellipSoothe your dried out skin your aching limbsYoursquore already alive my dear
ndash Loren Wann
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
ldquoHer body carries clouds all the way homerdquo
bodmiddoty lanmiddotguagenoun
[mass noun]The conscious and unconscious movements and postures by which
attitudes and feelings are communicatedldquoHis intent was clearly expressed in his body languagerdquo
by P
ia W
ong
Silhouette by Pia Wong
Back up now for airstaccato breath wersquoll partakeour footsteps are their own racethis escape was never going to beone steered straightWe let our hands become grazed with time and passion and endless stories breathe in deep smell this tainted airwersquoll force every love-note restrain every carebeacons of shining burnt and rusted youthour smiles are quaking philosophiesand our fingers are trailing secrets Stop slow done now erase the yearsback up now for airbefore life drowns us allhellipSoothe your dried out skin your aching limbsYoursquore already alive my dear
ndash Loren Wann
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
bodmiddoty lanmiddotguagenoun
[mass noun]The conscious and unconscious movements and postures by which
attitudes and feelings are communicatedldquoHis intent was clearly expressed in his body languagerdquo
by P
ia W
ong
Silhouette by Pia Wong
Back up now for airstaccato breath wersquoll partakeour footsteps are their own racethis escape was never going to beone steered straightWe let our hands become grazed with time and passion and endless stories breathe in deep smell this tainted airwersquoll force every love-note restrain every carebeacons of shining burnt and rusted youthour smiles are quaking philosophiesand our fingers are trailing secrets Stop slow done now erase the yearsback up now for airbefore life drowns us allhellipSoothe your dried out skin your aching limbsYoursquore already alive my dear
ndash Loren Wann
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
by P
ia W
ong
Silhouette by Pia Wong
Back up now for airstaccato breath wersquoll partakeour footsteps are their own racethis escape was never going to beone steered straightWe let our hands become grazed with time and passion and endless stories breathe in deep smell this tainted airwersquoll force every love-note restrain every carebeacons of shining burnt and rusted youthour smiles are quaking philosophiesand our fingers are trailing secrets Stop slow done now erase the yearsback up now for airbefore life drowns us allhellipSoothe your dried out skin your aching limbsYoursquore already alive my dear
ndash Loren Wann
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Silhouette by Pia Wong
Back up now for airstaccato breath wersquoll partakeour footsteps are their own racethis escape was never going to beone steered straightWe let our hands become grazed with time and passion and endless stories breathe in deep smell this tainted airwersquoll force every love-note restrain every carebeacons of shining burnt and rusted youthour smiles are quaking philosophiesand our fingers are trailing secrets Stop slow done now erase the yearsback up now for airbefore life drowns us allhellipSoothe your dried out skin your aching limbsYoursquore already alive my dear
ndash Loren Wann
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Back up now for airstaccato breath wersquoll partakeour footsteps are their own racethis escape was never going to beone steered straightWe let our hands become grazed with time and passion and endless stories breathe in deep smell this tainted airwersquoll force every love-note restrain every carebeacons of shining burnt and rusted youthour smiles are quaking philosophiesand our fingers are trailing secrets Stop slow done now erase the yearsback up now for airbefore life drowns us allhellipSoothe your dried out skin your aching limbsYoursquore already alive my dear
ndash Loren Wann
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Cosmic Love by Mitchell Collins
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
late morning skinLUCIA ROSE BUFFA
photography
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Lucia Rose Buffa
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Lucia Rose Buffa
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
I took all my clothes off and stared at my body naked in the full length mirror The socks stayed on my feet because the tiles were cold and unforgiving I didnrsquot turn on the light so I could only see the shad-owed outline of the slight curve from breast to waist to hip I studied my body the way a scientist examines a specimen It was beautiful I detached myself from this vessel I am not my body it is the vehicle I use to get around in everyday life and it was beautiful in the way every womanrsquos body is beautiful I didnrsquot lsquoloversquo my body as we are told to but neither did I hate it with a burning passion I appreciated that it was mine and that it held beauty within its form I admired it as I would admire a painting or a work of art But I will never let it define me
ndash Grace Dobell
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
His fingertip slowly traced her freckles that were sprawled all down her legs like he was playing dot-to-dot on a 3D level He liked to imagine the little brown spots each as a memory they all told a story like a token of each summer He traced three spots in particular he imagined these ones are from the time they spent a day at the seaside just sitting on the edge of the wharf listening to the wind howl and watching the waves dance below their feet the first time their lips met the first time he tucked that hair behind those ears and the first time he really saw the beauty behind that faccedilade That day the sun had kissed her skin and left behind its trails so gorgeously for every eye to see His hand travelled up from her knees and her thigh and to the curve that connected her ribcage to her hips it concaved at such a degree that his palms wrapped around perfectly and for a moment he just held her He could feel her body steadily rise and fall like the waves of the ocean that summer day Her gaze locked on his her green eyes the colour murky grass looks like on a day when the sky is deep dark grey and drizzles down endlessly Her deep rosy lips curved with happiness and let a peek of those pearly whites the loveliest smile he had ever seen Her teeth had a little gap between them and they werenrsquot perfectly straight but to him they perfectly perfect He let his hand travel up to her jaw line which she claimed was lsquotoo roundrsquo and he traced his finger down her cheekbones which she said were lsquotoo prominentrsquo To her it was all lsquotoo this and too thatrsquo itrsquos all just skin and bones to him it shouldnrsquot label who you are because underneath all that he knew she was so much more than that He held her wrists in his palms and he could see the blue lines of life hidden behind her pale skin such a fragile thing He felt the tremble of her fluttering heartbeat the con-stant pounding beneath the skin and he swears the world fell silent to the sound of her perfect melody ldquoYoursquore marvellousrdquo he whispered Confidently insecure she stared back ldquoCertainly notrdquo she objected ldquooh just look at the way my hair sticks up in every direction there is to go and the way my freckles make my skin look uneven and flawed not to mention my pear shaped hips and ghostly pale skin just look at these knees and these horrid purple circles that hang under my eyes and no matter how much sleep I get they never want to leaverdquo How incredible he found it that she could have so much hatred for her very own body yet he adored every little bit of her To him she was so beautiful so alluring by the way she reached for her tea cup with her delicate long fingers the way she would almost always wear knee-high socks even in those sweaty summer time days the way her freckles told a story the way her skin looked against his the way she would tell him every tiny detail in the current book she was reading and the way she could not remember what she had eaten for breakfast that day but she could remem-ber the first conversation they ever had or that night they talked about Jean Luc Godard films over dinner or the pattern the lines on his palm made or the first time he called her beautiful because she remembered the things that mattered and he just did not understand how everyone else wasnrsquot driven mad by this girl
ndash Audrey Pfister
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Christopher by Natalie Ng
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
ERIN ALISE BORZAKphotography
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Erin Alise Borzak
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Erin
Alis
e Bo
rzak
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Erin Alise Borzak
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Itrsquos funny how wersquore all so completely and utterly different every atom and molecule and vein beneath our skin is entirely unique yet somehow we all ultimately long for the same thing We want gentle fingers that will trail softly up and down our the spine in our backs We want a couple of dollars to go buy ice-cream on a summer afternoon We want to dance in the rain to kiss in the rain to hold hands in the rain to run out of the rain We want steady hands running a sure path through our hair We want forehead kisses and palm-of-our-hand kisses and full-on-the-mouth kisses racing with passion and tip-of-the-nose kisses too We went to build snowmen and fill the air with laughter so it mixes with the pretty snowflakes above our heads We want supple shoulders and bare skin and quivering chestshellipcollar-bones that rise and fall with every breath We want slow-motion blinking and eyes that blaze with uncontrollable desire We want blanket forts and an abundance of tea fireplaces and knitted rugs and maybe a brownie or two We want sea breezes intertwining our hairs with theirs We want the ocean tide to kiss our toes We want to talk for hours in candle-lit rooms We want to fall asleep clutched in someonersquos embrace We want someone to know us better than we know ourselves
ndash Loren Wann
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Untitled by Sam Ross
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Still There
She puts the mug down andlooks at the speck on his toothHer tongue runs overthe same spacelsquoWill you fix it Pleasersquoand then a suck and slicein that placelsquoStill therersquo and he turns redand ink goes in circlesfrom his cheeksShe keeps at it ndash speck or none ndashfor another while
In That Security
I am awake andyou lie thereI can smell your sleepThere is not muchbetween usin this silencebut it does not lastand I will not restuntil you leaveThen I can sayI told you so
ndash Joe Brennan
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
I thought I wasa forgotten languagebut then you came alongtucked me under your tongueand learned meso well
ndash Shi-Qian Yong
I wonder about restless fingers that crawl jagged spinesand of the skin beneath themencased in layers of goosebumpsI wonder about the palm of a handpressed gently against the small of her backI wonder about the trembling trails of hair sneaking an adventurous weave down the arch of a neckand why the hollow above the collar bones shiver slightly in the nightI wonder about the lashesthat caress the rise of cheekbonesand I wonder where theyrsquove been before
ndash Loren Wann
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
GEMMA TOPLISSart
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Gemma Topliss
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Gemma Topliss
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
And the Demon Slept
Her skin was clammy - damp and murky and discoloured like the ancient swamp that lay just a few metres from her back garden Wrin-kles at the outer corners of her eyes made you wonder why someone so aged shook with nerves fear and the silent rush of adrenaline one frail hand was lifted to her quivering mouth and the other held a heavy metal demon It fit perfectly in her hand The tranquil breeze blew a tendril of wispy white hair across her forehead She hardly noticed Old eyes watered slightly fixed with determination as she stared straight ahead She could feel the cold blunt barrel pushed lightly against her temple her pulse throbbing violently against it a sweat broke out and she could feel the vile thing threatening to slip from her hand
In the next surreal moment the deathly quiet that had hauntingly enveloped her began to fade No Was that the chirping of birds She blinked and a droplet of water escaped from the corner of her eye Her fear-stricken hand fell away from her mouth and swiped away the tear The soft breeze returned and gently pulled the strand of snowy hair back into place In the depths of her subconscious there was a dull thud as the demon collapsed to the ground lifeless She glanced at it for a moment and with a little sadness she smiled There was more than this
ndash Loren Wann
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Self-imposed Exile by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Best Friends by Zoe Vyner Kasif
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Self Portrait by Evelyn Challinor
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
Trapped In Another Dimension by Evelyn Challinor
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
by G
emm
a To
plis
s
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
CONTRIBUTORS
Art
Gemma Topliss flickrcomgentle-insomniaEvelyn Challinor flickrcomphotos78622125N05Zoe Vyner Kasif flickrcom-pisces
Photography
Erin Alise Borzak flickrcomfrito93Lucia Rose Buffa luciabuffacomMitchell Collins flickrcommitchell-collinsNatalie Ng flickrcomdormitaSam Ross flickrcomtel0s_Pia Wong flickrcomburningskies
Writing
Joe Brennan Grace Dobell hazeltowntumblrcomAudrey Pfister justanotherwasteddreamtumblrcomLoren Wann hell0-hurricanetumblrcomShi-Qian Yong rrictustumblrcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom
HINDSIGHTISSUE ONE
copy hindsightzine 2012-2013
hindsightzineblogspotcom