A Mid-Monsoon Afternoon’s Dream

  I am not a dreamer, at least not in the literal sense of the term. I have dreams, yes, but I don’t see snippets of my subconscious playing out in some distant corner of my sleeping mind, only to realise that I remember but traces when I wake up. Sometimes I fancy I could …

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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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