Irish Sunset   von Natejak
                               (-a short story)
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                                  Kapitel 1: 
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It was a foggy morning, as mornings in the north of Ireland tend to be once in a
while, and the sun had just begun to rise.
A man, dressed in grey, much in contrast to the beautiful green colours that the
sun began to reveal, left the airport, without haste.
“Can you tell me the way to a good pub?” His voice sounded deep and clear,
with a sign of boredom. The cab driver could tell this. He knew a lot how people
sounded. This man was very confident and strong.
“For a few bucks, I can even drive you there, what do you say?” The man
agreed, and a few minutes later, not far from the airport, he was entering a
pub.

The bartender looked up. “Are you delivering something?” “No, of course
not, I am just a visitor of your lovely country.” “Oh… I just thought.
Y’know. Still too early for my customers to pour in, even tourists normally
sleep right now. See, I’m not even finished cleaning yet.” The man looked
around. There was indeed lots of dirt at the floor, and a considerable amount of
broken glass. “Football yesterday. Had a pretty nasty fight here, and throwing
out a dozen drunks that keep together is never a good idea.”
“I see… got any whiskey?” “For you only one little glass. You know,
it’s too early to be drinking. Also, while the sun is shining, lots of tourist
families come here. And I really don’t want a drunken foreigner to scare them
away.” The grey man looked up. “Don’t worry, I just want a little drink
and some information. Can you tell me a nice cliff around here? I am a
photographer, you know.” “Sure.”
The bartender walked away.  Nothing to do for the grey man…
So he looked around a little. It was an old pub, or maybe just prepared to look
old, he couldn’t tell. If he ever had kids, he would come and visit this
place. It was a funny idea. He snickered stupidly, until he found another
thought to hold on to. There was a huge mirror. The foreigner stared into it. He
looked pale, he thought. Well, that was just perfect, right? A pale man, in
Ireland. He wouldn’t be able to gain colour on this vacation. Another funny
thought.
“Haha, don’t fall in love with yourself, boy. Staring into the mirror like
you want to jump it right now.” The bartender had returned, with a piece of
paper in his hands. “This is a map I still had because some tourist left them.
You can have it.” “Thank you, how much for the drink?” “I’d say, its
on the house, for the first guest today.”

So the man left the bar, stepping into the sunlight, which was now almost as
intense as it used to be at home. Unsurprisingly, the cab was still standing
there. Of course, the working day hadn’t even really started yet. Gently, the
grey man woke up his driver, to tell him the directions. “Are you sure? I just
mean, it costs a lot of money to get up there.” The foreigner did not seem to
care at all.

Inside the car, he closed his eyes, and thought of mirrors, the sun and kids. He
never liked any of those too much. He felt his thoughts gliding away, felt the
warm sun on his face, and the monotone sound of the engine buzzed trough his
body. Softly, he fell asleep.
“…up. Wake up, man!” Somebody was shaking him. Stealing his sleep. Why do
people have to be so annoying? “Wha… yeah… I’m up, I’m up.” He
blinked and looked around. The driver was looking at him, but the sun stung too
much in his eyes to figure out more. The grey man took out his wallet, and
slowly gathered the needed money. “Thanks for driving me all the way up here.
Keep the change.” With these words, he handed over the payment.  “Thanks,
man. The name is Liam, by the way.” “Really? I’m Victor, and it was a
pleasure to meet you.”

When the driver was out of reach, when Victor couldn’t hear him anymore, he
laid down on the green, fresh-looking grass. He stared at the sky. Thinking
again. He was a thinker, I guess, always losing himself in his thoughts. The sun
rose to its highest point, and lowered again.
When he got up this time, it was already getting dark, and he stood up because
of a boy. 
“Mister, have you seen my father?” Victor looked up. A kid was standing
before him, maybe eight, nine years old, with short, dark hair, and unusually
bright eyes. “I looked down the cliff and suddenly, he was gone, you know?”
Victor smiled. When was the last time he had talked to a kid? He couldn’t
remember. “I don’t know. But you can sit down next to me, and we talk a
little. I am sure he is already looking for you, so you shouldn’t walk away
too far.” “I guess you are right. What’s your name?” “I am Victor, but
you can call me Vic.” Vic. His friends in school used to call him Vic. He
wondered… how where they doing? “And yours?” “My name is George
Abernethy. I come from America, but, you know, Vic, my grandfather was from
Cork.” “Cork, eh? Aren’t you a little far away from Cork?” “We are
visiting every nice place in Ireland. And there are so many nice places…”
“I guess its fun?” “Lots of fun! The people talk funny, and my daddy
always tells me cool stories, about ghosts and knights. My mommy doesn’t like
it, though. She likes nice stories. Why are you here, Vic?” Victor laughed.
“Well, I like this Island very much. It always makes me feel so alive.”

The both of them kept chatting, until a voice rose in the background.
“Georgy? Are you there?” “I am here, daddy!” A pretty nice man
approached. Nothing special about him, to Victor he seemed like most other
people. After a few nice lines, a short chit-chat about George not having caused
trouble and wishing for a nice journey, the two Abernethy’s left. Victor
decided that he actually liked kids, and that he would miss George.
Finally, he got up from the rock he had been sitting on for the past few hours,
and stretched. It felt good, but he was worried about the sounds his spine made.
Then he took off his grey jacket. He smiled when he thought about how ugly it
was, and decided, not to wear it again. He folded it and neatly laid it down
besides his suitcase.
This evening, everything somehow seemed interesting and nice. It was almost
time. He looked at his knuckles, moved his fingers, looked at his bones move.
The trembling was almost unnoticeable. After a few minutes, he raised his head
and looked straight into the sunset.
“Irish sunset”, he thought. “That’s one of a kind.”
No one who saw this spectacle could stay calm. Inside Victor, a warm fuzziness
began to spread.
He wondered. If he had been here one or two days earlier, would he have heard
the Dullahan shout his name?
He laughed. That was just stupid.
Then, still laughing, he jumped.

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