-A Missionary’s Memoir-

Mr. Coffey passed some several months on what he called “that black, bedevilled, sweltered isle,” the tiny, tropic mass that floats still visible, just, off the coast of Kerry. He analysed its rocks and its heavy vegetation and moved, unharmed, amongst its pasty-skinned and sad-eyed people. The tropic forestry out there is so [...]

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“I suffer in a country where all of the trees are black and where the flowers have no perfume.”
Brittaine set the soft, pink azaleas in the shadow of the still-fresh stone, where the soil stayed upturned some few months on. Molloy was just behind her, with a low-hanging head, and she turned to him with [...]

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‘Sempers Doldrums, Sempers Dolens’
You may have noted a marked change in the tone of my appearance of late – where once preened, now hangdogged; where previously defined, presently inexplicable. How now my pale face hangs like a devil’s sick of sin! And so it is in this time since the grandmother, like a difficult quiz [...]

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I have a dream…
I
Stan sank his hari-kari blade into the envelope and, with a right, then upward motion, plied it apart. Inside, a number of small note pages were folded, one within others and upon each was an urgent handscrawl.
Handwritten contents always require scrutiny, for they are, invariably, of greater importance than off-printed duplicates. And, [...]

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