We Go Wandering at Night and are Consumed by Fire
This is a tale of moths and mirrors, glim and dim, told in the smoky, sensuous lines of Rowyda Amin, a writer who “specialises in controlled fantasies” (Alan Brownjohn, Poetry Review), and the delicate, luxuriant illustrations of Hetti McArthur. We Go Wandering … ripples and shifts, sometimes sharply, sometimes imperceptibly, trailing many shadows as it leads you by the nose through a conjured world – a city of crossroads where the borders between things melt away.
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