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Author Archives: jasonoruairc
A New Direction, Part 2.
I recommend that you read Part 1 first, if you haven’t already. It’s here. ~~~ The next morning Davy woke up early. This wasn’t unusual; in fact it had been happening more often over the past few months. He put … Continue reading
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Tagged 2008, A New Direction, A2, Antrim, beach, Belfast, Black Cave Tunnel, bosses, Buzzwords, Carrickfergus, Coast Road, Cushendun, dehumanisation, diary management, Donegal, Down, drones, Financial Crisis, Financial Services, flirting, Fortwilliam, Gandhi's flip flop, Gaoth Dobhair, Glens of Antrim, Gweedore, humour, Jason O'Rourke, Larne, lead generation, Lehman Brothers, Life Insurance, Literature, love, M2, M3, M5, management, Northern Ireland, Part 2, sales targets, Satnav, short story, slaves, South Belfast, stress, Ulster Fry, Working Smarter, WPLongform, writing
2 Comments
Chadwick at Large.
26th July, 2013 My Dear Readers, I have come across an unusual discovery, which I would like to share with you. As you know from reading my column, I am a familiar figure at Belfast’s auction houses, and (although I … Continue reading
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Tagged Anderson's Auctions, Anthropology, baldness, Basel, Belfast, diet, Flann O'Brien, German, Gunter Grass, Heidelberg, humour, Ich bin ein Berliner, Irish flute, Irish Music, Jason O'Rourke, Joyce, Koln, Literature, Miltown Malbay, Nietzsche, Roscommon, rotary engine, short story, Sliabh Luachra, Switzerland, Wankel, water quality, Willie Clancy, WPLongform, writing, Yeats
17 Comments
A New Direction, Part 1
Davy Smyth’s life-changing event occurred at 3.27 p.m. on April 6th, 2012. He was late for his appointment, tired and irritable. He’d been on the road for nearly an hour already, and the journey should have only taken forty minutes. … Continue reading
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Tagged Ballycastle, Ballymena, Belfast, Boreen, Chicken with Black Bean Sauce, Contour lines, Cromac Street, Donegal, Easter, Egg Noodles, Errigle, Fiddle music, First World War, Gaoth Dobhair, Gasworks, Go Ahead, GPS, humour, Insurance, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, love, Madonna, Market, Ormeau Road, Radio 4, Rainbow, Rock Music, romance, Satnav, Shiraz, short story, Tank Warfare, Turf, U-Turn, Whitesnake, WPLongform, writing
6 Comments
The Ten Commandments
I am Belfast City Council’s Health and Environmental Services Department. Thou shalt have no other wheeled bin. Thou shalt not use substitute receptacles. Except thy recycling bin(s), and they shall be used for the appropriate materials only. Thou shalt not … Continue reading
La Savante
The view from the field is spectacular. Behind us rises the mountain, Round Seefin: domed, treeless, majestic. At the very top it is grey with scree, descending into dark brown scrubby heather, and then green patches of grass dotted with … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, camping, Co. Down, happiness, Jason O'Rourke, joy, Literature, Mourne Mountains, pain, Round Seefin, Savant, Savante, short story, sorrow, Whin, writing
14 Comments
Service with a Frown
The Asia Supermarket on the corner of Agincourt Avenue and the Ormeau Road is an Aladdin’s Cave of delights. It is a hulking, windowless, rectangular block, which is partially obscured on the Ormeau side by dusty Rowan trees, and thick … Continue reading
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Tagged Agincourt Avenue, Asia Supermarket, banana sauce, Belfast, chillies, Chinese, customer service, dim sum, dried jellyfish, Fenugreek, garlic, ginger, green tea, Gulab Jamun, Halva, Holylands, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Lower Ormeau Road, noodles, Ormeau Road, Peking Duck, Pomegranate Molasses, preserved cabbage, Rowan tree, sake, short story, sumak, tofu, Tofu recipe, writing
6 Comments
Racial Prejudice
Gate D, at Belfast International Airport, is drab, and cheap-looking. The shabby grey carpet and beige walls are brashly lit by fluorescent tubes set into the polystyrene-tiled ceiling. In a far corner of the room, one of the lights flickers … Continue reading
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Tagged Aldergrove, atrocities, Belfast, Belfast International Airport, Belfast Telegraph, British Army, Checkpoints, Glasgow, Guinness, Harp, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Liverpool, London, Northern Ireland, racism, Sectarianism, short story, Squaddies, Troubles, war, writing
4 Comments
Good Question
I’m tired this morning; not sleeping well these days. The sunshine glaring through the kitchen window hurts my eyes, and I blink repeatedly as I fill the kettle. The wee man is calm at the moment, watching a DVD. I … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, black coffee, child, divorce, DVDs, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, love, patience, petrol, poverty, separation, short story, Single parent, tears, weeping, writing
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Vernacularisms 