Mia Greenhills Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Swords

So we talk—me leanin’ on a lamppost, her smokin’ a fag. “Memory is a curse,” I say, nickin’ from the movie. She nods, like she gets it. Life’s beaten her down, but she’s still kickin’. I exagerate in my head—she’s a femme fatale, playin’ me like a fiddle. Ha! As if. Truth is, she’s just tryin’ to eat.

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After that, I’m trying to clean up the mess, and I’m just so over it. But then, outta nowhere, this little kid runs up to me. He’s like, “You look like a princess!” Aww, my heart! I’m smiling again, and I’m like, “Thanks, kiddo!” Kids can be so sweet, right?

Death Notice of Brian Mongan (Greenhills, Dublin)