I met him on a Thursday night in Dublin, which already made it feel like the sort of thing that should not have mattered. Thursdays are for quick pints, last Luases, and…
I used to tell people we were “just intense.” That was the word I chose because it sounded romantic and grown-up, the kind of thing you might say about a couple who…
I met Aoife on a Tuesday evening in Dublin, the kind of evening where the rain hangs in the air without ever properly falling. We were both sheltering under the same narrow…
I met Niamh on a wet Thursday outside a little café in Stoneybatter, both of us pretending the rain wasn’t bothering us. She had a paper bag of pastries under her coat…
People always imagine divorce as a door slamming. In our case, it was more like a window opening in a room we had both been sitting in for too long, pretending we…
I met her on a January morning at the Forty Foot, the kind of morning when the sea looks less like water and more like a dare. I had gone there because…
I met Eoin on a wet July evening in Dingle when I was twenty-one and pretending I was only there for the work. I had taken a summer job washing glasses in…
I grew up in a village so small that if you bought cough sweets in the shop, three people would ask your mother if you were coming down with something before you…
I met him on a wet Thursday outside The Cobblestone in Smithfield, both of us standing under the same narrow strip of shelter, pretending the rain was not coming in sideways. He…