Thursday, April 9, 2009


#99, Dublin

This burnt-out shell of a car was festering in the parking lot of a convent school. It was a quiet April afternoon in a well-to-do section of Dublin, and apart from the ruins of a car, there was nothing at all amiss in the surroundings: birds chirping, leaves blowing softly in the breeze. The parish office was open, so I went in and asked the nice old ladies about it. It turned out to be the handiwork of a teenage pupil, and the car happened to belong to the parish priest. A dumpster had also been set on fire, and the air was fresh with the smells of burnt rubber. The school has, two years later, since closed down and the car was towed away without ceremony or fanfare. Some answers raise more questions than they answer. And some sights are all the more terrifying, more beautiful for being so out of place.


Pierre said...

You seem to have spent some time in Hungary and Ireland. It makes me wonder if you have paprika coursing through your veins along with a taste for potatoes. Me mum's mum was a McCoy. I've been to France, and Ireland is on my list.

Your first sentence on this post really grabbed me. Festering - perfect.

Therese Cox said...

Hmm... I don't know about paprika per se, but I definitely have a borscht belt in addition to my penchant for the potato.

:resists urge to make Hungary/hungry joke:

I think Copenhagen might be next on my list. My mom's side of the family is Danish and I drool daily over Danish cycling utopia sites.

Anonymous said...

Please offer your first book, that didn't get picked up for publication, through your website. Go through one of the self-publishing houses and start gathering your following now. You write well and on an accessible, intellectual level. Why wait around? You publish; we buy, directly from you. Nothing to lose!

Pierre said...

After reading the post by a non mouse, A scene from "It's A Wonderful Life" came to mind. George looks Mary in the eyes and says: "It's a chance of a lifetime!". Or maybe it was the other way around. Anyway, you get the picture.

Therese Cox said...

"Now, you listen to me! I don't want any plastics, and I don't want any ground floors, and I don't want to get married - ever - to anyone! You understand that? I want to do what I want to do. And you're... and you're..."

Ah, George Bailey, c'est moi.

Don't worry, I'll get there. I have to have my bar brawl and my moment on the bridge in the snow and my meeting with the angel first. But I will get there by hook or by crook. And y'all will be the first to know when it's ready. ; )

That said, I'm never too stubborn or thick-headed to ignore or be ungrateful for votes of confidence. So thank you. Sincerely, thanks.

Julie said...

Look, I am sick of you treating your readers with respect and just writing away and dragging me along even though I have to google every other proper noun. Jimmy Stewart ... tch ... tch.