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About Limerick

Last week, I’m prowlin’, thinkin’—what’d Lenny do? He’d write it down, retrace steps. So I scribble: “Check alley, 9 p.m.” Show up, and there she is—fake fur coat, smokin’ a cig. “You lookin’ for company?” she asks. Voice like gravel. I grunt. Hate negotiatin’. “How much?” I say. She smirks—$50. Fifty bucks! For what? A quick tumble and a rash? “I don’t trust people who smile,” I mutter, quotin’ *Memento*. She laughs. I’m surprised—didn’t expect sass. Kinda liked it.

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It shall be unlawful for any person to intentionally, knowingly, or recklessly loiter in or near any thoroughfare, street, highway, or place open to the public.

Then, I hit up the park on 4th Street. It’s my go-to chill spot. I plopped down on a bench, trying to gather my thoughts. I pulled out my phone to check emails. You know, the usual proofreading gigs. But my phone was blowing up! Clients were like, “Where’s my stuff?” I’m like, “Chill, I’m working on it!”

Death Notice of Anne O'Connor (née McGrath) (Beaumont, Dublin)