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I have taken to going to Derry on Saturday mornings to browse around Eason's while gathering up the books I need for next year.  Then, I usually go and enjoy a coffee and a croissant in Synge & Byrnes cafe before the crowds start to roll in (who knows, I might get a free coffee for the plug). 

Anyway, I was sitting thinking about stuff and this (very short) story came to mind.  Feedback is welcome and if anyone wants to join me some Saturday morning for a coffee and a chat or even a meaningful conversation then, you are most welcome.  I do miss the odd week so if I'm not there, sorry, and try again some other time.  I don't have a title for it yet, it usually takes a while for me to come up with titles.  I hope you enjoy it.

Untitled

'The fire's dead' said the woman to the man, 'I left everything sitting right there for you and still......you let it die.   I mean, how many times?'  She stopped and shrugged.  'What's the point?' she said and left the room and went upstairs.  She didn't bother to undress but laid down on top of the bed and slowly died from lack of interest.

It was later reported the man died from hypothermia.

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