At breakfast, she lays Harold’s place: toast the way he likes it, just turning brown; a jar of thick-cut marmalade. She doesn’t like how the rind gets stuck in her dentures, but it’s his favourite. Her son, Ben, knocks on…
Rosie is a novelist, poet and sings with post-punk band The March Violets.
With a passion for language nurtured by public libraries, her work has appeared in Under the Radar, The North, New Welsh Review, Rialto & elsewhere. Her latest novel ‘The Night Brother’ was reviewed in The Times as “playful and exuberant… with shades of Angela Carter.”
The Kingdom of the Cats
Her eyes were of gold, of gold, of gold And she was most old, most old Lucas was the first to leave. In her hut at the village edge, Old Ana stirred her midnight brew and watched him stumble past,…
The Third Favourite Wife of The Emperor
At the hoist of the red lantern, she draws the curtain of her cuff across her face, so she does not pollute The Emperor with her unworthy gaze. At His approach, she invokes the spirit of the nightingale and trills…
Speaking in Tongues
When he gets home, he slides you into a goldfish bowl. You think there’s no way you can fit, what with the tail and fronds, but the water accommodates like a glove. Morning and evening, he shakes a plastic tub….
