Tag: Irish Whiskey
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Corned Beef and Cabbage
Happy St. Patrick’s Day. It’s a big deal for me. It’s always been that way. A combined celebration, one of ancestry and heritage directly followed by my birthday. A one-two punch. I was almost named Patrick. I like Sean better. I used to go on a proper tear, I might have a touch but it’s…
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All Guests Must Be Announced – Ch. 20
“We got plenty of beers left but maybe we should get some Tully? Good idea or recipe for disaster? What do you think?” “Tully is never a bad idea,” I said. “Here’s some bread,” said Gerry, pulling a hundred dollar bill from a stack of cash, suffocating inside his wallet. He must have withdrawn funds for…
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Dart Etiquette – Ch. 36
An unmarked police car parked in front of Mr. Craven’s pick up truck. The car rattled and hummed well after Detective Jacovino exited the car and walked up the front steps. Two bone dry bottles of Tullamore Dew laid next to the cooler and Cookie Hill’s dog bowl on the grass to the left of…
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Dart Etiquette – Ch. 32
I stood in my bedroom, in the basement of the house I grew up in for potentially the last time. No, it was the last time. It had to be. That house taught me about the pitfalls of life. I stuffed the clothes I wore in the park during the execution into a plastic bag.…
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Dart Etiquette – Ch. 29
Once in a while something had to go your way. It couldn’t be all shit all the time. I mean it could but for once we caught a break. We had found our opening. When you’re presented with a chance, a small window to take action, should you take it? Of course, you should. You’re not…
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Dart Etiquette – Ch. 23
My friends were dependable, and if and when I needed them they were there, and that was reciprocated. It could be anything from a small loan to standing by my side to ensure a fair one stayed fair. I knew I always had a place to crash if I needed to get away from my…
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Dart Etiquette – Ch. 22
Ozzy was gone. That was it. Ozzy was not coming back, not ever. Unreal. Nothing we could do would resurrect him or reverse these horrid chain of events. We had gotten ourselves into something that we couldn’t fix. We couldn’t make this one up, we couldn’t apologize or fight our way out of this. Death…
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Dart Etiquette – Ch. 7
A muddled pile of money remained on the bar soaked in Irish whiskey and Imported beer. Our hands gesturing and accentuating all the dumb words that slurred from our crooked mouths. We talked so much nonsense, but it was always fun, and that was the point. Pints and shot glasses clinked one after the other…
SEAN GABLER 