Author Archives: Jonathan King
Unprompted: From Carrick Island
“Tell me where is fancy bred / Or in the heart or in the head?” –William Shakespeare. Also Willy Wonka. I found Ireland today I looked for her in the streets of her tourist’s cities The H&Ms, the Subways, the towers of glass and cement But I did not find Ireland there I looked for […]
Broken Belfast
At first glance, Belfast seems like a charming, thriving city. Buses run between shops and museums and a university that looks more like a castle. Centuries-old cathedral mingle with modern architecture to the point that one old church has a shiny metal spire instead of a steeple. The city is populated by some of the […]
Coming to America . . . or Not
It’s Independence Day, and I’m in the wrong country. The day should be hot, fireworks should be flying, and watermelon juice should be dripping down my chin. Instead, the weather is cool, the only sounds are light traffic and wind, and there’s a great ice cream place right down the street. Maybe this isn’t such […]
A Home that Never Fades
“Living among Strangers: The Lost Meaning of Home.” Where do I start to unpack this concept? Actually, it’s easier than I might think. Living among strangers is a state I find myself in often. I can tag along with any group, but do I really belong in any of them? When they start talking, I […]
Unprompted: Armagh After Hours
It’s two o’clock in the morning, and Armagh is dead. But the city is not without life. No one walks the streets, but the very buildings seem to come to life, great slumbering giants waiting for the rise of dawn to turn them back to stone and wood and glass. They join together as if […]
Sweet Dreams, or Counting Sheep
He is the shadow in the corner of my eye. He is the tingling on my shoulder. He waits for me each night, calling to me with a nauseating lullaby of cackles, and I cannot resist. Black as fear and towering as the unknown, the creature of the demon’s smile visits death upon me once […]
Brain Drizzle-ish
The theme is “Living among Strangers: The Lost Meaning of Home.” My mission, because I have to accept it, is to come up with a premise based on this concept. My first thought? A character I developed for a playwriting class last semester. His name is Granth MkDoil, and he’s an alien trapped in a […]
First Thoughts of Armagh
I’m standing on a tiny rock sticking out from the stone wall of a ruined Irish friary. Below me is nothing but six feet of air, hard ground, and even harder rocks. I’m not sure how I got up here, and I’m even less sure how I’m getting down. To my right is the hole […]