Layers

‘GET yourself a haircut, love.’ His mother’s words echoed in Tadhg’s ears as he studied himself in the bathroom mirror. ‘It’s time.’ She had taken another day off work and stopped by for a cup of tea. As she spoke she had given him a sympathetic smile and a nod. As if she were attempting to usher him past a questionable period of his life. A tone she might have used when telling him to turn off the tv and study or to start applying for jobs. It was the tone that suggested she had waited silently, not passing judgment, until finally, she couldn’t wait any longer if they continued to be seen in public together. ‘It covers your eyes. You have such beautiful blue eyes.’

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Cash is Dead

‘CHANGE please,’ Cuan called out from under his hood as he watched a pair of heavy doc’s step by. A single drop of rain hit him on the nose and ran downwards, nesting on his lip. He was cold. The kind of cold that sat in bones causing a consistent dull ache and it had rained so much lately his clothes never fully dried. The smell of him alone would keep people away, but that wasn’t a problem these past few days it seemed.

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The Bloody Stream

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‘HAS it got me,’ the old bird asked. The skin around her eyes was as thin as tissue and detailed with faint little veins.

‘Yes,’ coughed Sally. Clearing her throat and saying it again. ‘Yes it has. The dampness in your lungs is making it difficult for you to breathe and your body is tired from fighting.’

‘Feckin Corona. So what do we do?’ The old bird asked with a fierce strength in her tone.

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