humans of Dublin

I moved into the house in Phibsborough on a wet Tuesday in February, carrying two suitcases, a box of books, and the private certainty that I was too tired for any new…

I used to think a life could only fall apart loudly. A slammed door, a suitcase dragged down stairs, a ring thrown into the Liffey. Mine came undone in the space of…

I met her on a wet Thursday evening in Dublin, the kind where the rain doesn’t fall so much as hang in the air and make everyone look like they’ve been crying…

I met Ciarán in the queue for coffee on a wet Tuesday in February, the kind of Dublin morning where everyone looks personally betrayed by the sky. We worked in the same…

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…