‘CLASS dismissed, enjoy your weekend children,’ Ms Flannery called out, slamming her duster down on the desk.
A chorus of squeaks from chairs being pushed out erupted from the class and the distinct gleeful chatter that came at the end of every Friday could be heard. Coats were thrown on and as Finn zipped up his schoolbag, he quickly removed the knife and stuck it in his pocket.
Read More‘Darragh!!!! Get up, I need help up at your Grandfather’s grave.’
Darragh twitched underneath the covers of his bed, the stench from his own body turning his stomach. It had not been twelve hours since he arrived back in Dublin, returning home from years away in Asia. The money had gone and real life beckoned he had supposed. He made good money teaching English in Hanoi, but spent it so fast he hardly got to touch it.
In one clean sweep he pulled the covers off himself and rose up; his lip pulling on the pillow a little, stuck from his own drool.
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