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…
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,…