mick, from sligo, probably the best irishman that ever lived, bids me farewell at the end of the week
we speak about painkillers ... in his opinion the best is and always will be beer
which reminds me, i tell him, that i have a bottle waiting in the fridge
i am too ashamed to admit it has lain there almost a month
he says' " i expect you can hear it talking to you ?"
the fridge is five miles away from our workplace
i cup a hand behind my ear for a moment
"no, mick ! she's singing to me !""