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Rosanna Mclaughlin
Rosanna Mclaughlin is an editor at The White Review.

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The Pious and the Pommery

Essay

Issue No. 18

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Essay

Issue No. 18

I.   Where is the champagne? On second thoughts this is not entirely the right question. The champagne is in the ice trough, on...

Essay

April 2019

Ariana and the Lesbian Narcissus

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Essay

April 2019

‘Avoid me not!’ ‘Avoid me not!’                                   Narcissus   Let me describe a GIF I’ve been watching. A lot....

Moments ago, the woman with the lovely dimples had been shivering, utterly ravaged by the evening, but now her face was plastered with a smile, her dimples deepening as she gathered up her clothes A moment ago she had been a newlywed, teeth chattering, pale and in agony Now she was a happy young divorcee   The man had already dissolved their union He had emphatically recited his three talaq: I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you Their first night together was also their last Sitting on the bed’s golden sheets with the scent of jasmine floating in the air, Dimples had taken stock of the situation Sweat still clung to her skin and her long hair fell across her back onto the pillow She was still half-naked but she had to leave immediately, because she was no longer the mistress of the house   There was the sound of the man’s impatient steps behind the door, keplak-keplak She recalled him stripping her naked and then undressing himself, just a short while ago Dimples had frozen like ice while that man was on fire, leaping upon her and thrusting ferociously Then he stopped for a moment, his forehead wrinkled Not for very long, but long enough for Dimples to ask silently, What’s wrong? Am I too young for you, Master? The man’s reply was to make the bed rattle like a palm tree branch being thrashed by a hurricane as he hurriedly finished his lovemaking Then they both lay back for a moment, flooded with sweat and gasping for breath   But the man was still on fire – not with desire, but with rage He threw a blanket over Dimples, jumped up from the bed and pulled on his shorts Without even looking in her direction, he cursed her before severing the ties between them, slamming the door of their wedding chamber with a final shout: ‘You whore!’   *   The woman with the two snot-nosed kids had watched stonily as the headman had bound Dimples and her destiny to that man Dimples didn’t have the strength to return her malicious stare – drowning in

Contributor

July 2016

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Contributor

July 2016

Rosanna Mclaughlin is an editor at The White Review.

Ten Years at Garage Moscow

Art Review

November 2018

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Art Review

November 2018

When I arrive in Moscow, I am picked up from the airport by Roman, a patriotic taxi driver sent to collect me courtesy of...
Becoming Alice Neel

Art

August 2017

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Art

August 2017

From the first time I saw Alice Neel’s portraits, I wanted to see the world as she did. Neel was the Matisse of the...

READ NEXT

fiction

August 2013

How to Be an American

Will Heinrich

fiction

August 2013

Begin with a man on the beach. The sea is strangely iridescent, lighter in its lights and blacker in...

feature

Issue No. 14

In Search of the Dice Man

Emmanuel Carrère

TR. Will Heyward

feature

Issue No. 14

Towards the end of the 1960s, Luke Rhinehart was practicing psychoanalysis in New York, and was sick and tired...

fiction

May 2016

See Inside for Holiday Special

Joanna Quinn

fiction

May 2016

We are not tourists. We are journalists. We fly out from Heathrow, Bristol, Glasgow and Newcastle to foreign airports...

 

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