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About Navan

Pisses me off, tho, how she struts round, actin’ like she owns the joint. “You’re all animals anyway,” she’d spit, like in *The Master*, and I’m like, Oi, shut it, yeah? But—get this—she’s got this weird charm, y’know? Happy as a pig in shit when she scores extra cigs. Surprised me once, too—heard she sang to calm a fight in Block C. Voice like a bleedin’ angel, who’d’a thunk? Mate, I nearly cried—me, a warden, cryin’ over *her*? Mental.

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But then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off! I’m like, “What the heck?!” Everyone’s scrambling. I grab my stuff and head for the exit. Turns out, it was just a drill. I’m standing outside with my coworkers, and we’re all laughing about it. “Best day ever!” I say sarcastically.

Death Notice of John (David) McClelland (Monkstown, Dublin)