Bull and Bullock

Bull and Bullock The other night abed, Father, propped upon an elbow, dropped and died. Earlier that week, Mother gave me Anthony to hold when Father threw a fist, missed and bellowed through the door. I did not see the biggest of them bear him back. But at the wake they spoke of how he ran, fell across a fence and swayed there. I was in another room, giving Mother Anthony to hold, and I remember how, clairvoyantly for once, she wept there. Donal Mahoney