Last of the Autumn Leaves
In early November the girl can see her breath. Clouds of smoke in the crisp air. She wears a red and black checked bomber jacket; owned since university. A cold…
Room 329
The hotel room, dressed in washes of brown, looks out onto a busy road. I have pulled back the curtains, opened a window. Gray clouds heavy and sodden painted against…
Compound
The first in a series of Commentary based on our continuing attempts to navigate life on the planet that is rural Ireland. The new gate sweeps up to an…
At Love’s Altar
You have come here unsure of all the reasons why. Flown across an ocean, the contrails of your previous life creating an ever-retreating wake. You have followed a…
Fugitive Heart
At the anarchist's gathering. Suddenly, there is this girl with a hank of keys clipped onto the belt of her jeans which hang loosely…