That’s what we called it. The idiot mile. We used to think it sounded cool, but the adults talked about it and hyped it up so much that we just got a bit sick of the idea, and started calling it that. I grew up in a small village, secluded […]
It was during the spring break of my second year at college that I got a phone call from my uncle Andrew, asking me if I’d be willing to spend a few days over at his house. My grandfather had been sick for a long, tough while, and it’d apparently
Grandpa’s secret lived in the basement Read More »
I remember the first time I saw the Mourne Mountains in the mist. It was a Friday, just after the rain had passed, and the clouds were still clinging to the peaks like a shroud over a corpse. I was young then, just fifteen, but already too familiar with the
Midnight at the mountains of Mourne Read More »
