‘This is killing me, Sorcha. I feel about as useful as a focking Orts degree’
Description
“God, I’m bored,” I go. “How far into this whole self-isolation thing are we now?”
Sorcha’s there, “We’re halfway-”
I’m like, “Halfway?”
She goes, “-halfway through day two.”
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So it’s, like, Friday night and I’m having the usual pints with the goys in The Bridge. Dave Kearney asks how we’re getting on with a big smirk on his face. We’re all, like, crowded around my phone.
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Published 05/03/24
The old man steps into the kitchen with a Montecristo the size of a rolled-up yoga mat burning between his fat fingers. Sorcha storts coughing – her passive-aggressive way of telling him that we don’t allow smoking in this house – but he just ignores her, like he did when she tried to introduce a...
Published 04/27/24