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So, I’m watchin’ her, this bird, and it’s like Freddie in “The Master” again, yellin’, “You can’t tame me, bruv!” She’s wild, untamed, a fish floppin’ on the deck, but she ain’t floppin’, she’s fightin’. Makes me wanna shout, “You go, girl!” — proper loud, like. Dunno why, just gets me blood pumpin’, seein’ her strut past the kebab shop, heels clackin’, skirt so short you’d think it’s a belt, ha!

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As soon as I walk in, I see Mrs. O’Reilly. She’s like the library’s unofficial queen. Always has a million questions. Today, she’s on a mission to find a book about gardening. But not just any gardening—she wants to know how to grow tomatoes in winter. I’m like, “Mrs. O’Reilly, it’s Lucan, not the tropics!” But she’s relentless. I swear, she could outlast a zombie apocalypse with her determination.

Death Notice of Michael Griffin (Lucan, Dublin)