6/2/2023 0 Comments Left behind booksIt was a fine morning, one to snap in a picture and post on your Facebook page if you did that kind of thing, which Jim Tierney didn't. Sunday, September 15, 2013, a shade after seven o'clock in the morning. "Why do you always think the worst?" she'd ask, as if the worst could never happen. "You should have been here five minutes ago, I could have been kidnapped," I'd say when she rocked up to Brownies five minutes late. She wasn't a fan of my hypothetical musings. "It's immaterial now." This is the echo of my mum's voice from years back. I was easy to miss, which was the point after all. Not a chance they would have spotted me twenty or so meters away, hidden in dense woodland. But it's a hurried life that doesn't veer off its chosen track: cyclists in streaks of neon, joggers chasing personal bests, harried parents tailing their offspring. That may sound strange given that the place teems with life. If it wasn't for him I might still be there and none of this would have happened.
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