As the newspaper is thrown onto the porch, I lever myself out of bed, slip on my dressing-gown, open the door and crouch to reach for the daily ration of news. The tang of a snowy Iowa morning brushes my face and ears. As my fingers tighten on the paper I see the face of Brendan Behan look up at me. I read the heading ‘Wild Boy of Irish Letters is Dead’ … then ‘They mourn him in the pubs and theatres of Dublin, the wilful but gifted son of Erin who once said, “In the Dublin of my boyhood to eat was an achievement, but to drink was a victory over circumstances.”’
KeywordsQuicksilver Amid Explosive Stopper Shoe
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