On August 22nd 2015, a display jet failed to pull out of a loop and ploughed into traffic waiting at lights on a main road near the airport. Eleven people died.
Two pieces – a poem and a story – in the anthology Let Me Tell You a Story were written in response by authors who lived nearby. These are free to read and hear from August 1st in memory of those who died.
News report Contains video and still images.
After five years of intermittent abductions during which George wrecked all their automatic doors by not going in or out of any of them; refused to speak unless offered his preferred variety of meat selection and then only in a language they hadn’t anticipated; and barfed selectively over their best instruments with remarkable precision, the aliens removed his chip and sent him packing.
“THE RAIN RUNS in muddy rivulets off the pile of earth beside his grave. No softening of the edges of this funeral. No fake grass discretely covers the mound, just a heap of mud, a pair of dirty spades, and two reluctant gravediggers in fluorescent jackets leaning against the neighbouring gravestone, silently willing us to move on so they can get the job done and head to the pub. Of course nothing will do the Ma but she has to wait until the last shovelful is put on. They pat down the soil with the backs of their spades as though they’re on a building site.
‘Don’t worry that it’s a bit high Missus. It’ll settle down grand in the next few weeks…’
Settle down on top of him and in time, when the wood rots and the earth seeps in, settle down until it kisses his face. I wish I’d kissed him now.
We place the wreaths on the grave as the rain buckets down,
‘Sincere condolences from all at Fahey’s.’ I tear the card off and stuff it my damp pocket before she sees it.”
Read on in ‘Let Me Tell You a Story’ where you can also hear Anne’s own narration by scanning a QR code.
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