“..A fresh breeze in anticipation of sunrise at what time the first bird sings the dreams of a new dawn…”
Outside, the clinging chill of an Irish winter. Inside, the warmth of an Irish winter’s hearth.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
“…They courteously asked several men who they suspected of being involved in the fight to join them outside, while at the scene of the initial argument a Garda was down on all fours minutely searching the floor…”