I’m Irish and live in Japan with my wife, who is Japanese, and our four children. When not writing, I’m an Operations and Supply Chain Manager in the Pharmaceutical sector.
I’ve written a crime drama novel with a word count of 94,000. “Rebels & Chancers” is set in Cork, Limerick and Tokyo and spans a two-month period. The story is told from multiple points of view.
Are there limits to greed and arrogance? The same way as life balances death or guilt tilts against innocence, could we balance those sins with love and acceptance?
Local gangster, Chaz O’ Connor, and Detective Paul Russell, grew up school friends from Kinsale, and tested the scales of justice for all it’s worth.
One by one, the silver beads rolled, and slowly disappeared into a slim white hand. A black cross dangled and twisted in small circles with every movement of the fingers swallowing the rosary. His aunt going through the sorrowful mysteries, he thought. He twisted his head a little to the right and watched the priest dip the aspergillum into a small brass vessel and sprinkle holy water onto the coffin. The priest was mouthing something under his breath. Prayers most like, but his aunt’s mouth never moved. Her face was stone, her eyes glass, only her fingers moved the beads. The old vaulted ceilings of the church amplified the faint murmur of the crowd to his rear while they waited for the priest to finish.
The wooden pew pinched Wayne’s back and he let it. He wanted to feel pain. The priest took the microphone from an altar boy and stood near the coffin. Wayne didn’t listen to the drone but looked behind the priest to the stained-glass window over the tabernacle. A sad long-faced Christ hung on the cross for our sins. A yellow halo highlighted his crown of thorns, and a window latch partially blocked the bloodied spear piercing on his side. Wayne thought that it was surely not enough for all our sins.
The priest must have finished because people began to come to the front pew and offer hands of condolence. Wayne eventually just left his hand out and never withdrew it to his side, such was the queue of sympathisers. Evelyn’s cheeks were wet with tears and Wayne’s mother comforted her sister while acknowledging the people.
Suddenly, she stood in front of him and he swallowed. Miho held out her hand and imitated the people before her. Her touch wasn’t like the others, he registered her warmth when he peered into her brown eyes and he said, ‘Miho, thank you for coming.’
She nodded, pursed her lips, unable to speak or maybe not knowing what to say. He let her hand go and a pain of grief surged through his chest to his throat. He thought he was going to explode, and he watched her move away in the crowd towards the exit, while he kept the queue of mourners waiting.