Chapter 1

This is the first part of chapter 1. At the moment the project remians untitled.

Awake.

Her skull pounded with that most unmistakeable feeling of a good previous night. Her head ached and she knew it was going to be an unpleasant reminder for the rest of the day.

The room was silent and grey. Then she realised it wasn’t her room. After a moment or two of internal debate she decided it was best to roll onto her back and get her bearings in this new environment. She rolled; the world swam and then reconnected back into place. There was a body lying beside her. It was Jason, the damned student from the u.s.

He was this perfect mixture of arrogance and idiocy that she hated but for some reason she was massively attracted to at the same time. She’d been able to put up a mental distance for so long. He was heading back soon, so why oh why did she end up here?

This was a question that would have to wait until later. Her head swam again. She needed water but knowing most students she decided it would be best to just get a bottle in the nearest early morning shop.

After some strategic moves involving stealth and sheer luck she managed to get out of Jason’s dingy room with all of her clothes from the previous night and without Jason waking up. Once in the hallway the sheer neatness of his flat struck her as odd. Unlike most students of his age Jason had his own flat. His father had bought or rented it for him, she wasn’t too sure. Now that she looked around she noticed the floors were clean and free of dust. The shelved were covered in books, not just text books but Tolstoy, Plato, Nitche and Machiavelli. “A philosopher” she thought only to immediately have this thought replaced by the phrase “damn art’s student”, this being her immediate reaction to anyone studying the arts. It wasn’t out of malice just she could never fathom the point of doing these subjects without getting a job at the end of it.

The rest of the apartment was neat and clean. It seemed that they had both gone straight to bed the previous night. She smiled in spite of herself. She couldn’t remember what had happened but small snatches were coming back to her.

After a quick trip to the bathroom she left the splendid apartment. Although she had work to go to that day it would certainly be a bad idea arriving in her going out clothes. She also desperately needed a shower. Luckily it was still very early, unfortunately it was raining.

Dublin city in the morning is a very odd experience. It takes on a quality of unreality. It is a grey city most of the time with grey buildings and grey streets. Even the spire taking a central focus on the city’s north side is a monument to its greyness. Yet for some reason when the dawn breaks and the light of the sun grants it’s first gentle kisses to the world it feels happy, colourful and serene.

This is a time before the people flood the streets from commuter towns so it has a sense of quiet.

She stepped out onto the street to find herself by the docklands looking across the river. The sky was heavy and laden with rain that hadn’t yet fallen but then again it was November. The rain began to patter down as she walked towards the O’Connell Street on her way home. A street cleaner gave her that knowing look. That look which tried to judge and bore shame into one’s very being. “Damn” she thought, “I must look really bad”.

She eventually got home to realise it was six in the morning. After peeling off her uncomfortable worn clothes she went to the bathroom. A quick look out the window showed that it was still raining. “Well that will be down for the day” she mumbled before getting into the hot refreshing water.

It was too early to go to work so after cleaning off the smell and feel of Jason and a heavy night, she decided to try and sleep off some more of her hangover. It was going to be one those day’s alight.

A man stood with his palms against the spire. Mumbling something in an arcane tongue the spire itself vibrated with a motion useable to the human eye. He was dressed all in white who was unusual for a city where the general clothing was black and denim with small splashes of colour. His dark hair was braided down his back and he mumbled. Once the first spatter of rain had hit his face he smiled. A moment later he finished whatever he had been doing and walked off.

From their perch two ugly birds watched as all this happened. One flew down to the street to peck around for scraps to eat. Debris of the night before, the other sat and watched the man with a cold eye.

The rain began to get heavier. There was a feeling of something in the air something imperceptible like electricity.

The pigeon and the man knew there would be lightning before the rain had stopped.

He was on the bus when the rain had started. “Damnit” he thought. He’d come into the city early because he had an interview that morning. It was ample time to get something to eat then wander around get his bearings on where he needed to go and of course be on time. Now, now he was standing in a doorway praying for the current downpour to end. This wouldn’t be too bad except that he’d not noticed the two drunks continuing on from last night. He was hoping upon hope that they wouldn’t stab him or pester him for money. In face he wished for no contact at all with these people. He couldn’t leave without ruining his suit and then looking like a drowned rat going into the meeting.

The drunks hadn’t really taken much notice of the newcomer. They were more engrossed in their own trials and tribulations of how the world should work. Cieran and Mikey had been sitting in the same doorway, or so it seemed, for years.

Cieran had lost his family in an accident. He’d had the support of his nearest and dearest at first. Over time they began to go about their own lives and forget a little bit about him. He never got the support he needed and found sympathy at the bottom of a bottle. Time turned inside out for Cieran and he ended up in a doorway with a bottle as his only comfort. It didn’t really help but it made him numb which was all that could be expected of him really.

Mikey, well Mikey had been born into a rough home. He’d stolen his first car at fourteen and taken heroin for the first time at sixteen. He couldn’t really afford it much and ended up sitting down beside Cieran one day. For some reason he stayed there and never really went away.

Now the duo were arguing about something. It was getting heated and loud. Something to do with the weather. How it was unnatural kind of downpour.

All he knew was that he was in a bad mood and it was getting worse. He left the doorway. Earlier he had been optimistic and full of life. Now he felt like a husk of a man, heading towards the end of his day.

The two continued to argue and complain long after their unnoticed visitor had left.