No One Likes A Parade
Not today. It's just not in the cards. Some days are better than others and today- well, let's just say today is what it is and that's going to have to be enough. An unforgiving morning and Siobhan is struggling to make it out alive. That's what this pounding headache and roiling gut is telling her- any minute now, this could be the end. For better or worse. Just one more, Siobhan, come on. Drink up. DRINK UP. It's St. Paddy's Day, Siobhan- YOUR day, your PEOPLE. Your battles won and lost, the snakes, the famine, the potatoes, the....whatever. DRINK UP! Slainte! Brutal. Now bands are warming up underneath her window. Since when are West Indian tin drums part of an Irish parade? The noise, a cacophony of jigs and reels and Spirit of the West. Dj's on loudspeakers, police ops on walkies, bursts of frantic sirens racing to and fro, angling to control crowds of honourary Irish folk bedazzled in green felt bowlers and peel and stick transfers, slath...