I met Niamh on a wet Tuesday evening outside Whelan’s, both of us pretending we didn’t mind the rain while waiting for the same late friend. She had a yellow scarf, the…
I met Niamh on a wet Thursday evening outside Whelan’s, both of us pretending the rain was not getting through our coats. She was laughing at something her friend had said, head…
I met Clara on a wet Tuesday outside the Lighthouse Cinema in Smithfield, both of us standing under the same narrow awning, pretending the rain would give up before we did. She…
I met Aoife on a wet Tuesday in Dublin, the kind of evening where the buses hissed at the kerb and everyone on Grafton Street looked personally offended by the rain. I…
The first lie was so small I hardly noticed it leaving my mouth. Aoife asked me if I had paid the electricity bill, and I said yes while buttering toast in our…
She left on a Tuesday morning, which felt almost insulting because Tuesdays are too ordinary for endings. There was no thunder, no smashed glass, no dramatic shouting that neighbours in our Portobello…
I met Niamh on a wet Tuesday evening outside the Abbey Theatre, when the rain was coming down sideways and everyone on Abbey Street seemed to be personally offended by the weather.…
I met Ciarán in a way that felt engineered to become a story. It was a wet Thursday outside Whelan’s, the kind of Dublin rain that doesn’t fall so much as hang…
It happened on a wet Thursday in November, the kind of Dublin rain that doesn’t fall so much as hang in the air and wait for you to walk through it. I…
I met him on a wet Tuesday outside St Stephen’s Green, both of us sheltering under the same shop awning like two people who had been placed there by mistake. I was…