Fiction by Rosie Etheridge It was the kind of night where the lamplighters could see their breath in curling whisps, when a traveller entered the Three Eyed Crow. He removed his rounded black hat and placed it on the bar top. The first few flakes of snow had settled on the tops of his broadContinue reading “It Strikes Three”
Author Archives: RosieEtheridge
To Mount Clarewa Part 2
Fiction by Rosie Etheridge In the centre of Mount Clarewa stands a bronze statue of Cecil Clarewa standing on the very spot where he first struck oil in the 1870s. Cecil stands with his hands in his pockets, looking out on the town he built. His once gleaming moustache is faded and smoothed by theContinue reading “To Mount Clarewa Part 2”
To Mount Clarewa
Fiction by Rosie Etheridge Mount Clarewa was founded in 1872 by the intrepid Cecil Clarewa, a man of infamous character and an even more infamous moustache. It was said the thing was his good luck charm and that in difficult times he even spoke to it. Twice daily he coated the bushy beast in aContinue reading “To Mount Clarewa”
Rust – Part One
Story by Rosie Etheridge They were watching her, eyes glassy with death. Writhing, she held one still in her bloodied hands and slipped the knife from top to bottom. Into the belly. Her hands scooped out the warm insides, pulling them out onto the table. Each fish took her only a matter of seconds. InContinue reading “Rust – Part One”
Flat 2
A poem by Rosie Etheridge Flat 2,the rotting wood doorDaisies on the bed sheetsSet an oasis forevermorePiles of gig ticketsHours long queuesFor a hazed glimpse of you Outside, pale blossom fallsOn loves accepting their curtain call In Flat 2pancakes still burnBecause kisses took priorityRoses still bloomMonths after you gave them to meI wear your jacketOverContinue reading “Flat 2”
Into the Marsh
There was mud on Clara’s ankles snaking its way up to her calves. It seeped, squelched between her toes as she walked further into the marsh, Back there, where the grasses grew in bursts like the clouds in the June sky, she had lost one shoe then the other. At the loss of the firstContinue reading “Into the Marsh”
