There was a great gaping hole in his life. He hadn’t dug it himself; he’d certainly allowed them to backfill it on top of him.

He could be assertive; he’d just never seen the need.

He toyed with a bit of kidney on his plate, doubting that cannibalism would help.

Absorbing the Donegal hills from distance only now, Perry McDaid’s creativity subsists on nature’s palette and scents. Unfortunately this sometimes involves silage.