Away from Temple Bar, away from the tourists, away from the sound of my own feet pounding the street in the same 6 euro faux snakeskin flats every girl in Dublin bought from Penneys last Autumn.
Along Eden Quay, along the River Liffey, towards the Ha’penny Bridge. Towards the woman on O’Connell street who sells fresh-fried doughnuts from a tiny little kiosk. Just 60 cents. Rolled in sugar. Enveloped in small paper sacks. Melt in your mouth.