Getting my glasses fixed in Carrick reminded me that melancholy never lasts

Michael Harding: even as a teenager, the sorrow of things was forcing me to speak, and the best grammar available was the exquisite innuendo of metaphor

I apologised for not recognising him and explained that I wasn’t wearing my glasses. ‘Why not?’ he wondered. ‘They’re broken,’ I said

I apologised for not recognising him and explained that I wasn’t wearing my glasses. ‘Why not?’ he wondered. ‘They’re broken,’ I said

A man on the street in Carrick-on-Shannon looked me in the eye and challenged me. “Do you not know me? I’m your neighbour.”

I apologised for not recognising him and explained that I wasn’t wearing my glasses.

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Insightful opinion is just a away.