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Tag Archives: short story
Where be the Blackbird?
I know where he be. Next door’s front garden, head cocked to one side, orange beak grasping an almost-ripe cherry from my tree. I look round at the tree: the slender branch, once perilously bowed under the weight of its … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, birds, Blackbird, cherries, fiction, fruit, Ireland, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Ormeau Road, short story, Vernacularisms, writing
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Guest Post: ‘Judith’ by Eunice Yeats.
Judith, he goes to me, don’t be gettin’ up on that stepladder for you’ll fall and crack your skull. That’s Victor, my husband. Victor was married before. First wife died in 1986 and Victor never left their house for two … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, Eunice Yeats, flash fiction, monologue, short story, Vernacularisms
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Thought for the day
Sometimes you just want somebody to make you a cup of tea.
The Appointment
Who the fuck is Jerome? No idea. No matter how deep I scrabble around in the usually-fertile soil of my memory, there is nothing there. I don’t recall meeting anyone called Jerome. Ever. But there it is: a reminder on … Continue reading
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Tagged appointment, Autocorrect, Belfast, Bellini, faith, frape, Jason O'Rourke, Jerome, King's Head, Library, Literature, phone, Queen's University, relationships, Saint, short story, students, Vernacularisms, WPLongform, writing
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No Laughing Matter
Nobody knew where it came from, or how it spread so far, so quickly. It appeared on three continents in the course of one day; a mark on the calendar that became portentously known as Day 1. It was soon … Continue reading
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Tagged Azerbaijan, Belfast, Benny Hill, border, Cobh, Cork, Ebola, epidemic, faith, Father Ted, Fawlty Towers, First Minister, Frank Carson, Hugh Grant, humour, Hyena, Ireland, Jason O'Rourke, Jim Davidson, Kitchener, LAD, laughter, Literature, Long Kesh, loyalists, Malone Road, measles, Mexico City, Mrs Brown's Boys, New York Times, Only Fools and Horses, Outbreak, pandemic, Pink Panther, politics, Porridge, Rathlin Island, Red Dwarf, republicans, Shoot-to-kill, short story, Steve Martin, Stormont, Sydney, UTV, Vernacularisms, violence, Virus, WPLongform, writing
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Today’s Existentialist Rant
Driving back up the road after dropping my daughter off at school, I notice a middle-aged woman wrangling a blue wheelie bin into position outside her back gate. She looks miserable, the corners of her mouth turned down into a substantial, world-hating … Continue reading
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Tagged Ants, Belfast, Carolan Road, Dead Cat, death, Existentialism, exploitation, futility, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Mother Nature, Ormeau Road, poverty, Queen, Radiohead, rant, Selfishness, short story, Vernacularisms, writing
2 Comments
Cars, Ormeau Road, Part 2.
Black Maserati, revving; stuck in traffic.
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Tagged Belfast, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Maserati, Ormeau Road, short story, Six-word story, Vernacularisms, writing
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Guest Post: ‘A New Corner’ by Claire Savage
Royal Avenue hums with activity the further along she goes, pedestrians filtering in from side streets; dropping out of shop doorways and sliding into the throng from the Metros. The buses cut a path past Castlecourt, Tesco, McDonalds, like pink … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, Boots, Castlecourt, City Hall, Claire Savage, coffee, fiction, Literature, McDonald's, Royal Avenue, Russia, short story, Street music, Tesco, Vernacularisms, writing
5 Comments
Vernacularisms 