The first time I saw Kevin we were moving into our new home on that street. He was standing outside a neighbour’s house, sharpening his garden shears on the granite windowsill. As the moving van shuttered to a stop, Kevin lifted his head and winked in our direction.
For 90 years Kevin, a confirmed bachelor, had lived in Number 29. Retired from long service with Bord Gáis he had many stories to tell and knew every nook and cranny in the locality. The tap of his walking stick could be heard nightly as he passed our door on his way home from a pint in O’Loughlins. An old fashioned pub with sawdust on the floor, this was his home from home.
Time stood still for Kevin, even if he never did.
Unfortunately age and a broken hip spelled the end of his days on our road.
Now empty, his essence is still felt in every room in the terrace where he spent all his life.
