My sister and I step onto the bus, exiting the airport into a bright world with bleary eyes and exhaustion wrapped around us like cloaks.
We started walking near the Trocadéro, the Eiffel tower an uneasy metal clarion rising through a misty November sky.
Follow up to my post on Clay by James Joyce — but this time I'm also looking at the short story The Diviner by Brian Friel. These are notes taken from class and may be a bit scattered – leaving them here
21 Nov 2014: These notes were first published on the 9th of May 2013. I have migrated them back out of the black void of the internet, and here they are, slightly edited for clarity. I first read this story