The Girl in the Purple Room


Worth reading 😎

Baird undeniably showcases his talent for writing dark, psychological short stories.


Dark prose, emotionally personal poetry and a psychological short story.

The eponymous piece of this collection is its crowning glory and it left me wishing Baird had written a collection of short stories rather than poetry. This short piece immediately transports the reader into a twilight zone between reality and distortion. The end is utterly bizarre but in a way which shows where Baird’s talent truly lies. His style his unique and original.

Unfortunately, this flare does not permeate the collection as a whole. The poetry itself is pedestrian - never moving beyond the surface. The images lack substance and the originality which flows throughout ‘The Girl in the Purple Room’. Consequently, the majority of this collection is cliched and fails to elicit any reaction at times from its reader. I found much of it forgettable, bar the final, eponymous tale.

Thus, I still believe Baird’s collection is worth reading for this reason. There is no denying the talent which bubbles beneath the surface and I hope that the future brings a short story collection from Baird; preferably one which is just as dark and as psychological as 'The Girl in the Purple Room'.

Reviewed by

I am an English teacher and a writer. I published my first poetry collection, Between the Trees, in May 2019. I read widely and avidly and review through Reedsy Discovery, Amazon Vine and individual review requests. All reviews are published on Amazon, Goodreads and my blog - My Screaming Twenties.


Dark prose, emotionally personal poetry and a psychological short story.

The Girl in the Purple Room

Down the stony streets, in the heart of winter is where it started. 

I enjoyed walking very much, it cleared my head of overly pensive nonsense and conspiracies. The weather was cold and the night was only illuminated by the moon, waxing at this point. It was on this walk, this very night, that I saw her.

A gothic looking edifice of five floors however it was the third that caught me. Nay, struck me. A lavender hue, moving like a dreamscape, controlled by a silhouette. The silhouette of a young woman. She danced in these purple shades. Transfixed, I continued to watch until the clouds covered the moon and darkened my path home. A black night so thick you could taste it.

Every night since, I paused and admired the girl in the purple room, dancing. Whirling effortlessly in the lavender light. It was truly ethereal, lifting me from the depravity of the self. As the weeks went on, it was a nightly ritual to watch her nude shadow beautifully illuminated by the majestic hues, until one night, it stopped. She was no longer dancing. No. Her silhouette stood still in the window, her gaze transfixed, on me. It was no longer warmth I felt rather a frigid chill gripped my spine when I heard it.

About the author

Currently, I am a chef in NYC. Being almost all consumed by the beast of the culinary world, I find small tidbits of time to write poetry and short stories. view profile

Published on February 04, 2020

Published by

2000 words

Genre: Poetry

Reviewed by

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