On The Edge Of The Loch: A Psychological Novel Set In Ireland - Plot & Excerpts
Now, after almost three days of wilful recuperation, he was ready. His well-strapped thigh felt safe. His bones and muscles had lost nearly all their soreness, though not yet his blistered hands, but even this could no longer curb his compulsion, or his urgency. Under an overcast sky he moved through streets of intent Dubliners, faces that he imagined had been chiselled by the city, made raw by its roughness. But it would always be his, this city. Down the breezy quays he paced, green army jacket flapping. After O’Connell Bridge he cut through an alley, came out by the Abbey Theatre, and entered the tiny and time-worn Flowing Tide bar. In its sole toilet cubicle, amid the hiss of cisterns and the stench of porter, his pocket knife sliced six feet off a new roll of stretch bandage. He split the strip down its length and began wrapping his hands. Right first, then left, his ritual as a teenage fighter at the Railways Boxing Club, less than a half mile from these scrawled walls.
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