The Other Side

by Kim Holden

Every illustrator’s artwork is as unique and individual as a fingerprint, their style precise and identifiable—that’s my favorite part because it’s further proof that human beings aren’t carbon copies and there are never duplicates.

Of course when I’m being told to talk, the last thing I’m going to do is respond with actual words.

I am her corruptive antidote. I am light-less. And hope-less. And beauty-less. Fear embodied. I am the moth the flame should burn. Out of existence. Because confident and catastrophic, the living and the dead, don’t, shouldn’t, coexist. I taint. I am nothing. I am nothing.

“Some people aren’t worth fighting for, Toby. You’re not one of them. There are people we meet in this life who anchor us. They reassure us with their presence. They bring us comfort simply by being. They love by osmosis, radiating it out and diffusing it in effortlessly. Quietly, they walk among us, treading lightly but providing stability and influence because it’s second nature. The thing that’s so special about these people is that they don’t even know they’re doing it.”