The pints had bubbled up a joy in his heart though her vascular pump had sank some time ago.
He was enthusiastically boring her about the 2004 Football defeat to Kerry, and the great Liam McHale who was able to recall the cosmic joke that that particular day played on him.
Joanna wasn’t getting the joke. She had her eyes pealed on Cicero. The graphic hologram was a wonder of invention. The voice was an education; the damage to Ita’s exhibit was a disgrace. Nonetheless the spoken visual history from the vandalised contraption – which the homeless man had dragged in from the cold – was a distraction.
“…you have a borrowed life to fulfil through trial and tribulation, sometimes following a star that brightens all and then fades to dust.”
“On the Saturday of the match….” Darren didn’t see her eyes roll as he continued.
“….the odds on Alan Dillon scoring the first goal in the match were unaccountably large so anyway he phones home right and asked wife to lay a handsome wager on theBallintubber man. Of course she forgot”.
Joanna was stunned into submissive smile by the blythe story. He laughed heartily to himself.
“You know their is a rumour that in the library’s live ghosts.”
Her mind was on a surreptitious investigation.
“Not that again”
“Why is it so hard to think that he may still exist”
Cicero smile surreptitiously. It seemed that the hologram was awake.
“Turn that thing off” roared Gus.
The contraption stuttered to a silent stop. Gus was roundly patted on the back for his mind controlled by the pissed company he kept.
“I’m not discussing him anymore. Right I’ll find the keys of my bike. I’ll ask the barman” he said as he rummaged through the pockets of his leather jacket.
“I’ll wait here” said Joanna as she held the keys firmly in her pocket knowing she only had a moment to release the library keys from the ring.
Spare a moment for the dead: https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/9255135/posts/25364