short-story
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The house lay dark save for the banked fire. Eoin eased himself in through the door to be greeted by Seonaid and Fearchar cuddled on the floor in front of the hearth. They looked up at him and smiled as he entered. Eoin ducked a nod of hello.
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The weeks passed, uninterrupted of any more phenomenal events. Eoin kept busy with his clients that made their way to Seonaid’s house. He travelled into town with Fearchar to remedy a few of the old women who had taken to their beds with complaints of arthritis and winter cough.
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Late into his second month in Fearchar and Seonaid house, a woman knocked at Seonaid’s door one day to Eoin’s surprise. He flinched in distaste, recognizing her. She was older but still prim and smug. Seonaid turned tail and closed the door to the bedroom before the woman could see her.
Chapel Orahamm 