The Room

When the alarm clock woke her between sleep and wake.
She got into her night- gown and tip toed down the stairs.
The damage from the night before lay scattered around
The room.
Physical remains of a bad night of too much booze
And too much said. A broken glass, shards glinting
In the dusky light. A half-smoked cigarette. A CD of Barbra and
The smell of stale drink and smoke added to the taste of fear
In her mouth.
She reverted true to type and cleaned up the mess
They had made a few hours before. The news on the radio
Said.
Missing teenager's body found. She thought, lucky her.

^

Biography

I am a full-time writer, ex-banker, born in Galway 1962. Married to Dave. I am the mother of Colin and Rachel and we all live in suburbia with our dog Jack. I attended UCG in the early 1980's to study English Literature, joined AIB to pay the bills and finally gave up my association with banking two years ago to concentrate on writing. I have also completed a creative writing course in 2000 with Ken Bruen, much published Galway crime writer and I was also a member of a writers group in The Western Writers Centre, Canavan House, facilitated by Fred Johnston.

I have and poetry and short fiction published in The Galway City Tribune, The Black Mountain Review, Electric Acorn, www.newwriter.co.uk; See more of my poetry at www.poettext.com and www.virtualwriter.net. Oct. 2002 and May 2003. I am currently working on a second crime novel.