The insides of the pub on Vicar Street were packed to the rafters. The crowd swayed to the tunes of the local favourite. A smoky film hung in the air allowing a phantom veil to those wanting proximity and the band played on with gusto obliging the patrons; too glad to wash away the week’s …

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Three Little Pigs

There are times when it is excruciatingly difficult to engage oneself in any sort of activity- either by compulsion or by choice. Reasons vary. I do not intend to go into them. What I intend to do is to write (which I already am) and see where this goes. I do not have any pre-set …

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