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“To this scene come Eddie and Ray Bob, outsiders from the rural frontier, from the unseen and forgotten bumfuck outskirts of the urban media landscape. Rubbernecking the city, seeing what’s what, not much impressed. Just more folks humping the dollar.”
Christopher Cook, Robbers
*
Brendan Flood had left an envelope addressed to
“Jack Taylor.”
I offered to come round, she said,
“I don’t want you in my house.”
Fair enough.
Anyone who thinks suicide is an easy option might reconsider, especially if a rope is their choice, Brendan had put the noose around a sturdy beam, then, dressed in his guard uniform, climbed on to a plain kitchen chair. A guy in Bohermore used to handcraft them. Built to last. The rope near decapitated him. He’d vented his bowels, ruining the trousers. I was gi
