Spiral Darkly heard them first, quiet whispers, shushy voices not loud but loud enough to wake her up every night in the wee small hours. Then she felt their feelings. Loud, fierce, sad and powerful. Spiral Darkly poured all their feelings into her paintings of the darkest blackest ink. Once the rivers of Indian Ink started to pour, Spiral Darkly couldn’t shut them up. You see, Spiral Darkly lives with the lost witches and old souls of ancient stars.