by Stephanie Ní Thiarnaigh
Imagine Cúchulainn once stood on a seashore throwing stones with incredible precision at a bird named Fand that he didn’t realise was important to him at the time and he told her This is actually how I show you I care to be honest this is an act of kindness that rains on you and these little stones might have sharp edges but they’re filled with nice things and sure aren’t I always doing nice things for you and she made herself a little sanctuary in the gorse thinking that it would be useful enough to keep her safe which she had come to realise much later in life than most other people because they were always planted to keep the cows out and sure logic would tell you if you get inside the bush would do you no harm and they say if you wear a bit of furze then it will protect you from anything that’s coming for you and something to do with triumph over adversity but still and all as luck would have it didn’t one of Cúchulainn’s stones land on her wing anyway and when she emerged from the whin to say What are you at, pal, that was sore and she retaliated with a kiss and a request for an audience he gripped his slingshot tighter and said to her wide-eyed I would very much prefer if you could convey your hurt in a way that suggests you are not experiencing any emotions at all thank you very much as he had picked this up once in a skillshare led by a person with a classics degree and a single dreadlock as a useful strategy and the bird thought to herself May Lugh protect us for we are at war and lay down with him anyway despite knowing it was perhaps an unwise decision and when she cuddled him she did it closely and tenderly because physical touch was one of his love languages and she looked again at the stone that landed on her earlier and written upon it in tiny letters were the words I have a responsibility to not hurt her feelings the feelings of Emer being the feelings in question and the bird considered the meaning and if it would land in the same place a second time and I suppose there is a limit to the tolerance of even the most patient of birds because she said Sure what is the point in this at all those thorns only keep out so much so she requested a nectar from a druid she knew that was one of these Eternal Sunshine jobs a drink you drink to forget and after buying everyone concerned a round to skol back she looked to Mannannán who had been waiting all this time to raise a cloak of mist that would part the two forever and he smiled and thought Yes I will yes just say the word and she stopped and said Mannannán, Mannannán, is it time?