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The sky cannot fall in Ireland. It threatens constantly, a wagging finger pointing at the fog rising, an upside down heather cake with a peat and bog center. The sky in Ireland is held up by stories and the rhythmic sound of sean-nos,…
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3252117
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They sang and clapped and stomped shod feet on hardwood floor, the smell of man sweat and bomb-making thick as perfume.
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13777
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Before I go to sleep at night I make sure to tag my big toe in case I pass away before daybreak and the undertakers come for my corpse. The cardboard is attached with a loop of baling twine, and if I had more courage I'd staple the tag…
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83611
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She sat down in the big soft chair in front of his desk. “In your religion you believe in past lives, right?”
“Yes, reincarnation is a tenet of the Hindu faith.” He replied.
“As Catholics, I think we believe that only Jesus had the power to come
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1712017
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After a quick lunch of baby carrots and iceberg lettuce I sipped down the road to the liquor store and stocked up on a dozen bottles of Old Rasputin and a copy of the "Irish Times."
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11568
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In the night the rain made gentle, the flood still far off, and downstairs on the dining-room table the centerpiece collected dust as the hours passed.
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141108
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She sat adjacent to the bottle of Rioja, half-consumed, and as the week passed the dust settled on her like the faintest covering of snow.
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8477
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Red-bricked houses and four boys running rampant, singing, “armored cars and tanks and guns.”
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1921716
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There was a moment when I expected you to murder me in my sleep.
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1401413
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In my pocket, my fingers rubbed lint and thread together, a complete absence of coin.
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8666
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Post the absolutism, the fall.An upside down apple is a fragileImage and Nation together createN-trop(-e) chér my dear.Gallivanting about the frosted country-SIDE of lamb with mint sauce for afters.Ministrations to the dead.The body empty-D of all blud, dryin the cold…
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1502011
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Running the gauntlet to the toilet in the dark meant finding a way past the loose boards and the possibility of being caught and dragged under like a drowning victim. No lifeguard stood sentinel on the landing, only the bitter light of the single bulb—40w
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6700
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O’Riain was an old-school teacher, trained by savages, who drummed learning into the skulls of Ireland’s youth.
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87127
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After the box was in the ground, we dumped the soil on top and patted it down tightly in case the bird came back to life and haunted us.
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12594
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Hope, like a hangover, coiled and crawled from the bed. A pillow. Make-up streaked painter’s palette and the refracted light from the pond a half-mile away, some scurred and big-puffed clouds sadly tolling by.
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