A Fire In Drimnagh by Joe Bedford

A Fire In Drimnagh Joe Bedford   The house is wrapped in police tape. The attic where the fire started is burnt out and exposed, still faintly smoking. The doorway hangs wide open like a dead mouth. I follow the smears of sooty black running across the brickwork. The same ran up the edges of Finn’s face where the nurses were yet to clean. He looked so much like a child tonight I cried in front of everybody. He looked empty, as if the life had already vacated his body. I wanted to touch him but the nurses told me not to. It was the closest I’d been to him in a year. * When his mother left, I taught him to blame me. I encouraged him to hate me, and as soon as he turned sixteen he ran from me as I knew he would. I assumed his friends … Continue reading A Fire In Drimnagh by Joe Bedford