Author Archives: Theodora Goss

The Certainty of Work by Theodora Goss That night I lay in bed, a compact bundle of nerve and muscle and bone, under the coverlet, wondering where my life was going and where it had gone. Feeling the darkness around … Continue reading →

The River’s Daughter by Theodora Goss She walks into the river with rocks in her pockets, and the water closes around her like the arms of a father saying hello, my lovely one, hello. How good to see you, who … Continue reading →

Ugly by Theodora Goss I think there should be two words that mean ugly, because there are two kinds of ugliness. The first kind is the ugliness of an ogre whose nose resembles a turnip, with three hairs on his … Continue reading →

Dirge for a Lady by Theodora Goss Lay her in lavender, all that is left of her; lavender preserves the lovely and the white. Sweet clove and cinnamon, like a fine pomander, lay her in these, the delicate, the slight. … Continue reading →

The Nightingale and the Rose by Theodora Goss Here is the story: There was a nightingale. She looked like nothing at all, a small brown bird perched in the rose bushes. You would scarcely have seen her unless you were … Continue reading →

How Raven Made His Bride by Theodora Goss I. The Challenge If you insist, said the river, that any of Life’s daughters would accept you, bring me the best. If she is as beautiful as you are boastful, I will … Continue reading →

Raven Poem by Theodora Goss On the fence sat three ravens. The first was the raven of night, whose wings spread over the evening. On his wings were stars, and in his beak he carried the crescent moon. The second … Continue reading →