mdm

In the quiet early morning kitchen I strapped the dog into his fur coat and followed him out the door. Through the dark streets he snuffled and pissed and croaked like an asthmatic pensioner. It is excitement - I tell passing strangers who surely must think they are about to be set upon by a gang before we round corners.  I sneak into my Father’s house like a jewel thief, easing the key around in the cold brass lock.   I deliberate about dropping and running or calling up the stairs, but he is deaf and I cannot bear the thoughts of waking him, of seeing his sleep rumpled face, his white fluff   standing on end, the blue striped pyjamas, explaining again that I am off to the City.   Despite composing a number of emails in my head, offering apologies and downright lies in equal measure, I am apparently ignoring the self sabotaging voice in my head and in an altruistic move -   am leaving the building. The sky is navy...

Thomas fought his way up the harbour steps and was blown across the green to the small black door. I had stopped playing Solitaire and talking to the Samaritans long enough to answer the bell. I was lonely then. One night, full of pints, playing the Manic Street Preachers so loud the speaker crashed off the wall, I dialled the freephone number that appealed to me as I idly flicked through the phone book which passed for our amusement then. Bored, lonely, depressed, give us a call. No better Cailin, I thought and picked up the grey eircom phone. The  man who answered was from Wah –ther ford and I made him laugh, a lot. I accused him of drinking large bottles of cider off the shelf, pint glass with ice, of eating  red lead on a blah, and of  calling  people Montawk s.   A number of times he had to stop to get his breath.   I played down the enormity of coming to terms with the self.  Nothing intensifies ones innermost ...