Grandma’s Gramophone – a story by Michael Collins

The wheelchair was uncomfortable and the retirement home smelt musty. Martin settled himself into the seat as best he could, trying to find the most favourable position for his withered and bony bottom and thighs. Ahead of him stretched another long day of inactivity. Since the stroke had paralysed his body but had left his mind intact he had had a long string of such days. Make the best of it, he thought. Use your mind. Think long and hard of good things and bad things. Spin the day out. So what’s today’s story that I’m going to re-tell myself? … Continue reading Grandma’s Gramophone – a story by Michael Collins

Memories of an Irish Christmas by Marie O’Byrne

‘Hurry today love, there’s a lot that needs to get done. We have to catch the early bus into Bray to pick up the turkey!’ My mother spoke fast and very excitedly as she handed me the empty milk pail. It was early in the morning on Christmas Eve. I put on my wool coat and hat, grabbed the milk pail and ran out the door. I was about twelve years old. Running across the fields to the Massey Farm, I could see the small footprints I made in the frosty morning grass, and I could feel the hard ground … Continue reading Memories of an Irish Christmas by Marie O’Byrne

Terror 1974 – a story by Michael Collins

There was laughter in the car. The vehicle sped up the main road from Dublin to Belfast. And there was laughter in the car. They were on a mission. Pat and Mick. Yes, Pat and Mick, even though it sounds like the start of a thousand crude music-hall jokes. They had an appointment in Belfast. Pat was the literary dreamer from the far West of Ireland. Mick was third-generation English-born Irish, catapulted back from the land of his birth to the land of his worthless grandfather. Unlike many using the road, Pat and Mick were well educated, the one young … Continue reading Terror 1974 – a story by Michael Collins

‘The Outsider’ – An Irish Story by Michael Collins

The morning air had a quality only found on an island: cool yet warmed by the rising sun and the rocks still giving off yesterday’s heat. The three men tramped up the gravel track, the slope steeper as they neared the western end of the island. The sun was diagonally behind them, low enough to pick out in detail every feature of this rough and ready place. To the left the light was reflected in a sparkle from the surrounding seas. Ahead the cliffs rose to breast the Atlantic. To the right the bulk of the island swelled steeply upwards … Continue reading ‘The Outsider’ – An Irish Story by Michael Collins