“The Purple Confessional”…and Goodbye
Hi all, after careful consideration, we’ve decided to say goodbye to ANTICHRIS_. Below is artwork and writing by some of the talented artists who expressed an interest in contributing to the first print issue of ANTICHRIS_, entitled “The Purple Confessional.” Thanks to everyone else for submitting. We were overwhelmed with amazing work, just didn’t have the bandwidth to go through it all.
If anyone is interested in contacting any of these artists, please email antichrispress[at]gmail.com. Also, be sure to check out White, Christian, the first novel by ANTICHRIS_ editor, Christopher Stoddard, available in select bookstores and on Amazon in mid-November.
Please enjoy our archives and feel free to email us. Thanks to everyone for visiting for the past 15 months! xx
THE PURPLE CONFESSIONAL (Art & Writing Contributions)
“Success”
“Growler”
“The Three of Us”
“Run and Riot”
Siouxzin Handschiegel
“Kelly + Sasha”
I knew he was bad as soon as he sat down.
It wasn’t how he looked.
Exactly.
Welfare glasses + hair early serial killer long.
Too skinny face + grayish skin.
But that wasn’t really it.
There are a lot of unattractive, middle-aged men.
+ they’re not all bad.
He poured me a glass of Budweiser from the pitcher he bought.
This ought to have endeared him to me.
But it didn’t.
He poured me a glass before Sebrina even introduced us.
There was something off about that. But I don’t know what.
“Sioux, this is Kelly. Sasha’s boyfriend.” Sebrina smiled + drank.
Sasha was emaciated + somewhere else.
She slowly looked up + vaguely smiled.
Sort of the way a dog will wag her tail at the sound of her name.
She won’t understand the rest of the conversation,
but the familiar syllables of her name means something.
That’s one thing she can understand.
Sasha was like that.
Sadly.
“Oh. Hi,” I said + shook his hand.
It was damp + weak + it immediately made me want to wash.
With steel wool + lye.
“I like your hair,” he remarked + didn’t let go of my hand.
“Thanks.” I gently tried to extract my hand from his grip,
but he was reluctant to let go.
He grinned + stared into my eyes.
Like he was trying to crawl up into my brain.
I finally had to pull my hand back violent.
+ try to cover the operation with an empty giggle.
Another reason not to like him.
With little desire to continue conversation with Kelly,
I took a cigarette from my pack + was about to light it.
Kelly pushed my zippo away + lit me with his bic.
The flame’s height was set to crack smokin’.
Meanwhile, Sasha had pulled a broken piece of mirror from her purse
+ was freshening her congealed make up.
She was attempting to cover a blister on her top lip
with a mixture of lipstick + foundation.
It wasn’t working well.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Kelly asked, staring at Sasha.
I inhaled smoke deeply.
“Yes,” I answered.
Maybe she was beautiful once, but not anymore.
She was probably close to my age,
but something horrible had happened in those years.
Maybe she did it herself, maybe it was done to her
That didn’t matter because it was something that could
never be undone.
Sasha’s hair was lank + stuck to her face in clumps.
Her skin was a rough terrain of pimples + scabs.
She had track marks on her hands.
Her mouth was a cemetery + her teeth broken gravestones.
Sasha’s tight tee shirt clung to her small breasts + jutting bones.
She was a reanimated Auschwitz victim.
She was a walking disease.
She was a mother’s nightmare.
She was her mother’s nightmare.
She was me in a few years.
Apparently satisfied with her makeup, she stood up + swayed.
“I gotta go to work,” she slurred resigned.
She leaned over Kelly + gave him a kiss that missed.
“Be careful, baby,” he grinned.
He slapped her ass as she walked away + almost sent her reeling.
Another reason not to like him.
“What kind of work does she do?” I asked him,
curiosity getting the better of me.
He smiled. “What do you think she does?”
“Uh.” Stupid + naïve? Yes.
“Sioux, she’s a prostitute,” Sebrina said gently.
“Oh.”
“I told her I would support her,” Kelly said quickly.
“But, she loves it, you know?”
It hadn’t looked to me like she loved it.
But then I’ve never seen true job satisfaction,
so maybe I just didn’t recognize it.
Kelly leaned over me intimate.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.
He was apparently done talking about his girlfriend.
“No.”
“Want one?” he smirked + tried to hold my hand.
Another reason not to like him.
I left in search of the bathroom + neglected to come back.
I apologized to Sebrina the next day.
She forgave me, but disagreed when I said Kelly was an evil bastard.
“Oh, you just got to get to know him, Sioux,” she said.
“Sometimes he comes off a little strong, but he’s harmless.
Really.”
I was still unconvinced.
I told her I thought that there were dead bodies.
There were dead bodies that owed their condition to him.
I hadn’t spoken to Sebrina in a week or more.
She called me to invite me out to a show.
We met at 8.
At the dive bar, waiting for the band, Sebrina bought me a beer.
“By the way, I guess you were right about Kelly.”
“Really? Wha, he kill someone?” I laughed, bringing the can to my lips.
“Well, actually…”
I put down my beer.
“See, Sasha’s friend came over. This guy Kelly never really liked much. I guess Kelly was jealous of him or something. So, when the guy left their apartment, Kelly followed him. He stabbed him to death in the park.”
“He stabbed him?”
“35 times.”
Another reason not to like him.
“What a Drag”
“Rip Me Apart”
“Antichrist”
