Sit down, Jackie-me-lad. We’ve eaten, and I’ve whiskey enough. I know you’ve no family on the base, but Mrs. Wesson felt called to discuss the matter with me so I’ll be your Irish uncle today, never you mind that you’re dating my daughter. I hear Sam’s to apologize for speaking so, and that’s well and good. It’s the thing he won’t speak of that I’ll tell you tonight. Continue reading
When I come back to myself she’s whispering my name like a mantra. Not the bastardized version they use in Landfall, but my real unpronounceable name that my gran gave me.
“Illahee. Come back to me, wee one. Come home.”
And I do, like I’ve always done.
You’re born alone, you die alone, you get on stage alone. If you don’t own the stage, you shouldn’t be in rock n’ roll. This is the only life we have; you might as well live hard.
There is no warning rattle at the door. No bell, no chime, not even a footstep, but I know she’s waiting outside.