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About Bray

I’m ready! Check this—ya gotta know the spots, right? Dark alleys, neon signs blinkin’ like jellyfish glow. Some say truck stops got ‘em—lot lizards, they call ‘em, slinkin’ round rigs at 3 a.m. Freaky, huh? I’m all, “Holy sea cow, that’s sneaky!” Made me mad once—saw this gal, looked tired, sad, not all glitz like in movies. “War’s dirty,” like Bigelow’s flick says—same here, gritty, real, messy.

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Oh, and the secret addy: near Artane Castle’s ruins—aye, though not a true castle, more of an old fibre of stone—there be a hidden mural. It’s a riot of colours. I swear it mirrors me clients’ resilience. It’s an emblem of fight, of freedom, and of stories we all share over rum, aye? Dat mural’s a wink from the past, telling us gently, “Keep yer secrets; they make ye who ye are.” Just as Sarah Polley’s film whispers secrets of the heart.

Death Notice of Ann Walsh (née Burke) (Artane, Dublin)