April 21, 2011 in spazarific
It’s three p.m. on a Thursday in St. Stephen’s Green and it’s sunny – so ridiculously sunny for Dublin that everyone’s out and everyone’s in shirtsleeves and everyone’s on the grass and someone, some bold someone, is smoking pot; it floats on by in a sour whiff and Em and I remark on the absolute cheek. None for us, though – dammit – and there are tulips bursting all over the green – red and purple and yellow – and even if we felt like it, it’s too lovely out to move. No swans out, but loads of seagulls and pigeons. Dunnes shopping bags and a sack half-full of a traditional steak Hanley’s cornish pasty; comfort on my tongue. Em reads over her term paper. The sun shines right on my face – here. In Dublin. I still can’t believe it. I roll over on the grass. I have a little nap.