I cancelled my wedding on a wet Tuesday morning in Dublin, three weeks before I was meant to walk down the aisle. People always imagine a scene when you say that. A…
I met Ciarán before my sister did, on a wet Friday evening outside the Gaiety Theatre, when the rain was falling sideways and every taxi on South King Street already had a…
I met Niamh on a wet Tuesday evening on the DART, somewhere between Tara Street and Howth. I was carrying a paper bag of lemons because I had decided, with the confidence…
I met her on a Friday evening in the kind of rain that makes Dublin look like it has been painted in grey water. I was standing outside the Workman’s Club, pretending…
I used to think soulmates were something people said when they wanted ordinary love to sound magical. I believed in kindness, timing, hard work, and the price of a decent pint in…
I knew something was wrong before the best man stood up, because my sister kept looking at the top table as if she was waiting for a glass to fall. The wedding…
I kept the diary in the bottom drawer of a small desk I bought second-hand in Rathmines. It was nothing fancy, just a navy notebook with a cracked spine and tea stains…
I first saw him on a wet Tuesday morning outside Dublin Connolly, standing under the station clock with a paper cup of coffee and a book held open against the rain. Everyone…
I met him on a wet Thursday in Dublin, the kind of evening where the city looks like it has been varnished. We were both at a leaving do in Whelan’s, standing…