The Martlet
By sean mcnulty
- 63 reads
The Portrush Flyer
I got to know Oran Berrills five years back during my first working year at the Examiner. When going up Forgall Terrace one day, I saw something drop...
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- 744 reads
Filthy Old Machines
How was I to resist this woman that had controlled my every waking thought for nigh on twenty years? The ability to hold my tongue went on the blink...
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- 635 reads
The Kibitzers
Oran lumbered into the living room and planted himself in his big puffy chair by the window. The chair had been sliced to ribbons over the years, the...
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- 295 reads
The Malediction of the Moneyed
Oran had seen some success over the years with articles showing up in Ireland’s Own and The Sacred Heart Messenger but whenever over the course of...
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- 582 reads
Quality Retention
In those early visits to Forgall Terrace, I did not meet Phyllis Berrills. But she was there alright. First day I could hear the clack-clack of an...
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- 116 reads