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The Irish Tales

Er, a series of short stories about ireland ?

  1. The Irish Tales (3)

    Corked ! The Lost weekend (Part Two)

    Before I know it, we are outside on the street, after stepping respectfully around the sleeping body of the red-haired fucker and I am vaguely disconcerted to find that I am accompanied by two Tomases.

    "Bernie is going to open up the place and let us look for the phone," one of them tells me.

    Being a little cunning, I smile at the one whilst addressing the other, as it seems the safest way.

    Tomas ...
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  2. The Irish Tales (3)

    Corked ! (The Lost Weekend.)
     
    It is a cold and wet Friday in late February, or perhaps it is a hot, sunny day in June ?
    Who can say ? Not me, for sure. Not after all this time.

    All I know is that I am on a mission to succour my friend and rival Tomas, who cannot ride to save his life, but now seems to have a cancerous growth in his stomach, even after the poteen cask has been removed.

    And so I board the silver bird and fly the across the Irish ...
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  3. The Irish Tales (2)

    Tomas and Ivor (Part Two)


    It was a typical September night in Ireland; misty, moist and magnificent.

    The road to Wellington Bridge from Foulksmills was a single-laner, empty of traffic, but full of demons.

    "Slow down there, Kate !" yells Ivor. "It’s a tricky bend ahead of you now!".

    The road refused to comply, carrying on straight as an arrow.

    "Ah, jesus! Be steady now, darlin’. Big right-hander ...
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  4. The Irish Tales (2)

    The Irish Tales,2 : Tomas and Ivor, Part One
     
     
    Night is dropping swiftly over the fields around the house.
    The horses are being turned out, kicking and squealing and I am bleeding from my left ear and my right arm doesn’t work so good any more.

    I can still walk pretty well, but it hurts if I try and turn suddenly.

    I smoke and sniff the air and listen, whilst Tomas and Jay tease each other and David thrusts his hands deeper into ...
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  5. A very Irish Wedding (Part Two)

    My speech goes down very well indeed, as I was sure it would for I spent many a vodka moment working on it.

    One table though, insists on talking through it, so eventually I walk over to them and say : "Look. If you insist on talking whilst I perform, I’ll follow you home and talk whilst you perform."
    They shut up.

    Which is a shame, as I was keen to follow them home and see just what they did get up to, the sinners.

    The guests are a wonderful ...
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