I knew something was wrong on the second morning of our holiday, standing outside a small café in Dingle with rain coming sideways off the harbour and my boyfriend asking me why…
I met her on a wet Tuesday outside Pearse Station, the kind of Dublin rain that doesn’t fall so much as hang in the air and make everybody look slightly defeated. I…
I knew it was over before either of us said the word. We were sitting by the window in a small café off Camden Street, the kind of place where the tables…
I met Cian on a wet Thursday outside Whelan’s, both of us sheltering under the same useless awning while the rain came sideways across Wexford Street. He was carrying a guitar with…
It started because of a hotel room and a lie that was easier to keep than correct. Niamh and I had been friends since college, the kind who could sit in silence…
I knew it was over on a Thursday evening in Dublin, though I didn’t say it out loud until Sunday. He was sitting across from me in Grogan’s, turning his pint slowly…
I bought the ring on a wet Thursday in December, the kind of Dublin rain that seems to come at you sideways and personally. I had finished work early near Grafton Street,…
I used to write in a small black journal on the 15B bus from Rathmines into town. Nothing important, I told myself. Shopping lists, odd dreams, sentences I overheard outside pubs, complaints…
I met him on a wet Thursday evening outside the Dublin Writers Museum, both of us pretending the rain wasn’t getting to us. He had a broken umbrella and a calm, distracted…
I met Niall in a queue outside a small gig near Wexford Street, both of us pretending not to be freezing. He had a navy scarf wrapped twice around his neck and…