Rosie Garland (another friend, who was also my magnificent mentor for a while) is rightfully known for her weird and wonderful tales and writes novels and poetry as well as short stories.
This is a beautiful example of an innovative use of form, and also what can be achieved when a short story is written really sparingly, allowing the reader to fill in the gaps to work out what’s really going on. It’s a brilliant little horror story that lingered with me long after I read it, and I think this section is particularly note-perfect:
“Lock the dog in the yard, to stop it lapping up the puddles that collect under the carcasses. Ignore the neighbours complaining they can’t sleep. The smile that shuts them up faster than any bellowed argument. The way they shrink away.”
First published in X-R-A-Y, 2020, and available to read online here
A Personal Anthology 