I met Niamh on a wet Thursday outside Whelan’s, the kind of Dublin rain that doesn’t fall so much as hang in the air and make everyone look a little heartbroken. I…

I met Aoife on a wet Thursday outside the Gaiety Theatre, both of us pretending we were not stranded under the same narrow awning. She had a paper bag of chips from…

I used to think Christmas could survive anything if the table was full enough and the lights were warm enough. That year, Mam had the good napkins out in our house in…

I met Cian on a wet Thursday evening outside the Abbey Theatre, both of us pretending we hadn’t forgotten our umbrellas. He offered me half of his newspaper to hold over my…

For three months after Conor moved out, we kept saying we were fine. Not together, obviously, but fine. Mature. The sort of people who could meet for a pint in Dublin and…

I met him on a wet Thursday evening on Camden Street, the kind of rain that makes everyone look briefly honest. I had gone into a pub near Whelan’s with two girls…

The last night before Aoife moved to Australia, we sat on the low wall outside St Stephen’s Green with a bag of chips between us and said almost nothing useful. We had…