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About Cork

Me, I’d be pissed—pisses me off how folks judge quick. These girls, guys, whoever—they’re out here, riskin’ it. Takes guts, y’know? Reminds me of Saul’s sonderkommando crew—trapped, pushin’ through hell. “We’re already dead,” one says in the flick—damn, that hit me. Same vibe, different stakes. I ain’t sayin’ it’s noble, just real—raw as fuck.

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After that, I’m back to the furs. I’m sewing, stitching, and cursing under my breath. I swear, if I have to deal with one more angry customer, I’m gonna lose it. But then, I get a call from my sister. She’s like, “You won’t believe who I saw at the Finglas Village Centre!” I’m like, “Who? The ghost of Finglas past?” Turns out, it’s some local celeb. I’m like, “Great, now I’m missing out on the Finglas gossip.”

In Finglas, an effort to make a park safe for kids to run in