Apr 9, 2020
4 min read
Dublin Fog
It’s 5 a.m. as I step ashore. The early morning fog glides across the city’s slate rooftops, licking at windows, sliding down drainpipes until it catches in my throat, chilling my breath.
Dublin, did anyone ever know such a town? Open your nostrils, smell the religion, touch her stricken heart.
Women and children sitting in endless doorways, wanting your change. Hands and hearts stretched out — “ Giv’ somethin’…
