The Wonderings of Jack Coving




For those of you who don't know me, I am Jack, "Mother-Fucking" Coving:

Divorced, desolate and drunk; sitting in a tiny shoe box flat, housing a child's sized bed, a worn hotplate and a drippy tap. I drink hard, I fuck hard, I write hard. I couldn't tell you when I last had a shave or a vegetable that wasn't encased in batter.


Annie, she was my first wife and is a good woman. Don't let our divorce pit you against her, she put up with a lot; I didn't get my name for no reason, you know. Fuck, I saw the devil himself arise inside Annie the day she caught her mother, Maura, and I going at it on the kitchen counter. She ran me out of the house bollock naked, Eileen next door got a good gawk and all.


Even Annie laughs about it now, offering up three-ways with herself and Maura; at least I think she's joking. No wonder she'd be laughing, she got everything in the divorce but like I said, don't hold it against her.


That's the gist, my friends. Anything else I have to tell you is fairly pathetic. I invite you now to pull up a seat, help yourself to some fine bourbon and relax, as we meander hand in hand through my wonderings...


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Rolling with the Times

Jack questions our humble little island's capabilities to deal with what the future may bring. He curiously wonders why we can't let go of our oppressive traditions and attitudes.
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Where is my God? Jack Coving's Guide to Spirituality

Jack ponders on where it all began as he divulges his secrets on his own spirituality. He may be an atheist but even he needs something to believe in.
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It's a Dog's Life

Jack queries our sense of morality as the result of an outrageous assault on a dog. Could our priorities be somewhat mixed upon?
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Sorry

Jack explores our careless and throw-away attitudes towards redemption and forgiveness. An apology is more than a five letter word.
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© Sarah O’Regan
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