In Petites morts (1998, 67 pages), Rossignol begins each section with a precise, gem-like entomological description of insect mating habits ranging from the loving to the violent to the downright bizarre. Each frank scientific account is followed by a vignette from the narrator’s life. Sometimes the connection between the insects and the woman is obvious, other times more oblique, but the contrasting styles are always gripping. And while the title, a metaphor for orgasms, highlights the sexual undercurrent of the work, Rossignol also plays on the subtler relations – familial, social, amorous – between the sexes.

Histoires de lits (2003, 62 pages) opens with the narrator discovering an elderly lady who has died in her sleep. The last story finds her obsessing over the death of her grandfather as she and her lover undress in their bed. In between are many poignant reflections about a life spent under the covers: sexual encounters, dreams, desires, memories, births and deaths. Rossignol’s hypnotizing stories use the bed to construct an identity, a past, and an intimate psychological portrait.