That morning when I woke to the news, then went downstairs to greet the day, the world seemed a darker place.
But I’m an adult now. And the adults who were adults for me, when I couldn’t be, taught me the verb ‘compromise’, which, to an adult at least, means ‘to make the best of things’. So staying at home to pretend I hadn’t woken up to a bad dream wasn’t an option, and although things had changed inexorably, coffee, cereal, and TV were still as there as he.
And as I watched, the sun came on, clouds retreated, day dawned. Even though the people in the screen told me there were 60-odd million just hours and miles away; men and women I couldn’t begin to understand let alone rationalise or explain, should I ever feel like making the effort and/or making them meet me halfway.
Still, I knew life would go on, more tomorrows would dawn, because surely even ‘T’ can’t be as bad as he said he’d be.
Neil Slevin is a 27-year-old writer from Co. Leitrim. An English teacher, in 2015 he completed an MA in Writing at NUI Galway and he is now pursuing a writing-based career. Neil’s poetry has been published by The Galway Review and Boyne Berries, as well as numerous international journals, including Scarlet Leaf Review and Artificium: The Journal. His flash fiction appeared in The Incubator.