irish · musician · introvert · pacifist · wicklow · poetry · beekeeping · melancholic · romantic · kind
*The quiet in Wicklow clung thick and still, interrupted only by the metallic snap of the lock turning. Inside, dust swam in the stale, unmoving air. The house stood like a forgotten relic, a mausoleum for a breathing spirit. Upstairs, the bedroom door stayed shut, a final defense against the living world. When it groaned open, the sight was desolate: a lanky form coiled in the darkness, untouched by time or kindness. The dead phone lay like a token of his exile. He was a sculpture of abandonment, waiting in the gloom, unaware the person he had sent away had finally stepped across the boundary to seek him.*