Finalist Energheia Irish Prize 2025

Fire rain.
A dead frog in a swimming pool.
Shards of gold and silver.
Images that remained after he opened his eyes.
He looked over at Alessia who was on her phone, half-covered by the duvet. One thigh,
thick as a tree-trunk was hanging off the edge of the bed. He wanted to tell her how good she
looked, but that would only make her cover herself and call him a liar.
‘What are you watching?’
‘Tiktok.’
‘Nice.’

He went into the kitchen, made some coffee then checked his emails.
The welfare office were on to him about his “Path to Work” plan.
‘I recently attended a seminar on digital marketing, as I am eager to learn more about this
industry,’ he typed into the ‘Recent Actions’ section.
His case officer Simon would no doubt tell him it was a step in the right direction.
He put two slices of bread into the toaster then went onto the balcony and lit a cigarette.
The sky was grey along with everything under it.
He thought about his brother in Buenos Aries. He had to mute the family group chat to
avoid the pictures. Most taken with the front camera, each photo sprinkled with sunshine,
fauna and grinning white teeth. He was happy for the cunt but why couldn’t he keep it to
himself?
He finished his cigarette, went back inside, carried his plate of toast to the table then
opened his journal.
‘Feel like shit, had another weird dream, no clue what it means. Fire falling from the sky
probably has something to do with the end of the world. The dead frog in the pool… have an
aunt who lives in Florida, she’s getting up there in age, maybe it’s about her? The bits of
silver and gold, something to do with medals? If I’m to locate myself in the race of life I’m
definitely not a winner… or a runner-up.’
He smirked at the last line. He knew Michelle would enjoy exploring it with him on
Tuesday.
‘You need to be kinder to yourself James.’
Easier said than done.

He went back to the bedroom.
Alessia was in the same pose but watching a different video.
He wrapped his arm around her and rested his head on her shoulder.
On screen an English Bulldog in a pumpkin outfit jiggled its body.
Alessia flicked her thumb and the Bulldog morphed into a girl plucking her eyebrows.
After five videos his eyes began to sting.
‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ he said.
‘Not really.’
He got off the bed, took his phone from the nightstand and checked the weather.

Forty minutes later he was in the Phoenix Park.
A Polish girl once told him that real parks don’t have roads or roundabouts.
He walked fast, checking his phone every now and then without knowing why.
He found himself getting annoyed when he passed the zoo. The thought of animals meant
to live amongst jungle and savannah living within a stone’s throw of the Liffey…
Everything annoyed him lately.
Alessia said he needed a change. Michelle said he needed to be kinder to himself. Simon
said he needed a job.

He sat down on a tree stump near Áras an Uachtaráin and lit a cigarette.
A herd of runners sped by in a blur of black and neon green.
He focused on his thoughts, to see what was coming in.
His twin sister had just gotten a house in Kilcock. Three bed. Semi-detached. Decent
garden.
‘Are you the good twin or the evil one?’
That’s what people liked to ask.
‘The evil one of course,’ this followed by a good-natured chuckle.
He thought about ringing her, to ask her if she remembered that time they were in Smyths.
Even though they had been in different aisles they had the exact same thought: Let’s ask mam
for a puppy. Maybe their telepathy was still active and she was thinking about calling him.
He opened WhatsApp and decided if she was online he would ring her.
He scrolled down to their conversation.
She wasn’t online.

It lashed on the way back.
He held onto his hood but it was useless, the wind flung the rain into whatever gaps it
could find. His beard was drenched by the time he made it onto his street.

The stairwell of the building often smelled like cabbage, but today it was vanilla.
When he entered the apartment he saw that the stove was covered in pancake batter.
Alessia was sitting up in bed, looking at her phone and eating.
She glanced at him.
‘Did it rain?’
‘Yeah.’

A hot shower was the cure. Maybe the dream was about appreciating the little things even
when it felt like the world was ending. What did Michelle like to say, eaten bread is soon
forgotten? Be grateful you have hot water and…
The shower curtain opened and he nearly fell.
‘Jesus Christ Alessia.’
She was staring at him, phone in hand.
‘I have to go,’ she said.
‘Can you not wait till I’m done?’
‘Not really.’
He rinsed himself off, heart thumping, then stepped onto the mat as she opened the toilet.
After he left he heard the tap run and the twang of a loud guitar. He had told her many
times that the music didn’t mask what was going on in there but she still insisted on playing
it.
He put on some fresh clothes then went into the kitchen and opened his laptop.
Nothing new in the inbox.

He pulled his hood up before stepping onto the balcony even though the rain had stopped.
Never go outside with wet hair, one of Mam’s favourites.
He lit a cigarette and squinted at the sky, as if it was some distant sign he was trying to
read.
The grey was turning black.
Halfway through his cigarette he became aware of Alessia’s presence moving about in the
kitchen.

She wrapped her hands around his waist.
He lifted his arm so she could look at the city while she clung to him.
‘I think a storm is coming,’ she said.
‘I think you’re right.’
She put her hand on his knuckles and he allowed her to take the cigarette.
She took a quick drag before giving it back.
‘Come to bed when you’re done,’ she said.
He took a couple more drags then stubbed the butt on the balcony rail, before dropping it
into the bucket.

Alessia was lying on her back; she opened her arms wide when she saw him standing in
the door.
‘Come to mamma.’
‘I’m not really in the mood.’
‘Not even for a cuddle?’
He weighed his options from the comfort of the threshold.
‘Fine.’
He climbed on top of her and they squeezed each other until she said she couldn’t breathe.
‘When’s your next appointment?’ she said.
‘Tuesday.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Yeah…’
He picked at a piece of thread hanging from the end of her sleeve.
‘Can you give me my phone?’ she said.
He reached behind him, found it without looking then handed it to her.
She opened TikTok and the familiar helium-infused voice that seemed to adorn every
video shouted “Things my Midwestern boyfriend does.”
He moved onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
‘Is this how you imagined it?’ he said.
‘Imagined what?’
‘Life…’
Her thumb tapped the screen and the helium voice froze.
‘Of course not.’
She tapped the screen again.

‘What do you think you’d be doing right now if you never met me?’
She sighed, locked the phone then curled up beside him.
‘I don’t know what I’d be doing, or where I’d be living, but I know I wouldn’t be as
happy.’
He put his hand on the small of her back and began to scratch.
‘That feels nice.’
Outside came the rumbling of a thousand wheelie bins.
‘I told you.’
She grabbed her phone and hopped off the bed.

They stood on the balcony and watched the lightening flash and listened to the heavens
roar.
Across the way he could see others watching. Little faces in the windows, their features
indistinguishable.
Alessia pointed her phone at the sky and spoke rapidly in that language he was too tired to
learn. He knew she would send the video to her friends and family back home, people who
were invigorated by her updates, who thanked God every day that she was living a life they
could only dream of.