A Man Walks down the Street...
The road is longer than I remember roads being. It may be that I have not walked one in some time — not like this, not with a suitcase and no particular arrangement waiting at the other end. The leather handle is warm in my grip. I bought this case in a shop whose na...
The Pensive Ondine
The branch had grown out over the water at an angle that suggested surrender — not defeat, but the particular yielding of something that has stopped pretending gravity does not ex...
A homage to Yeats
There is a particular quality to the light that falls over the west of Ireland in the dying hour of the day. It does not simply illuminate; it transforms. It reaches across the bog...
Carrying the Lantern
The Guardian had carried the lantern for longer than the alley had existed.
That was the first thing — the thing that distinguished his fatigue from any human version of the w...