• theniamhcooper

Sneak Peak - Lights on the Horizon

Updated: May 26, 2020

So, some of you wanted to know if I could share a bit more about my story in 'Lights on the Horizon'.

'Lights on the Horizon' is a brand new collection, featuring stories, poems, diary-style entries, and more, on the themes of hope and heroes, published in May 2020. And all in aid of our frontline workers in the HSE in Ireland and the NHS in the UK.

I decided I could go one better, and publish a short extract from my story. The story itself is 'only' 1500 (ish) words, so the extract below is only a taster... If you like it, you'll just have to cough up the €1.99, to find out what happens, why there are two Chrises - and who the hell George is...

Even if you think it's utter tripe, just go out, I mean, stay in, and buy it - it's available out on Kindle and on paperback RIGHT NOW.


It's roughly the same price as a chicken fillet roll! Yes, I knew I could tempt you through food. And these are a thing at the moment, apparently. Bon appétit !

#lightsonthehorizon #frontlineworkers #HSE #NHS #covid19



by Niamh Cooper


March 12th – Day One

Really Day Zero. School is finished, and so am I. Previous loose lovership has ended, coinciding with the coronavirus outbreak, give or take 5 hours and 24 minutes. Offspring-boy, 16 ¾, and girl, 14, are oblivious, noses deeply buried in SnapChat and HayDay. While they’re busy sheering sheep and sending ceiling snaps, I break out a bottle of Corona in protest. It’s tepid and lime-less and only vaguely numbs the pain. It’s also the last bottle I possess. I pivot between anger and guilt. But more, anger. Because of the way he dumped me.

Hey hun how are things. let’s just take this time to decide wat we want. have a brake. O.K.? Love u, always.

I hate him. If he breaks up with me over text, how does he have the cheek to say he loves me. He was all talk. And I always made allowances for the fact that he was orthographically challenged. I called him that once, in jest. He was wondering what it had to do with birds. Emma always said that I was too good for him.

“Anyone who doesn’t even bother to write “you”. He just never respected you. Y-O-U! You’ll see. Someone better is out there for you.”

I finish my Corona. I hope my darling friend is right.

March 14th - Day Three

Yesterday was a write-off. I couldn’t even find my pen. Let alone my sanity. Turns out I still have some vodka, I suspect it might have been watered down but I will never know for sure. There must have been some life left in it as I felt more exuberant than I’ve been in a long time, going to bed on Thursday. I spent yesterday quietly retching into the latrine so Luke and Anna wouldn’t hear me. Fat chance, they were in bed until 1:30 pm, at which point I had dispelled most of my insides. Important for them to digest the trauma of a global pandemic which has just been declared, and for me, well, to try and digest a cream cracker. At precisely 16:47 I am able to ingest half a slice of dried toast, lick the salt off a pretzel, and gulp down ¾ of a mug of tea. I chance the milk as tea without milk is like gums without wine. One doesn’t go there.

I catch myself looking at my phone for the 17th time in 32 minutes. He still hasn’t texted back, but then, what does one reply to an angry tirade, meticulously pared back to three words:

“Go to he’ll!”

I regretted it the second I hit send, for various reasons, but I couldn’t take it back. I then pondered the fact that I had finally lowered myself to his dismal level of spelling – which quickly turned into embarrassment, then giggles, then anger. I couldn’t even spell Satan’s dwelling place correctly. I may as well give up and call him Santa. Predictive text would prefer it that way anyway.

© Niamh Cooper, 8th May 2020


To read the full story, 'Lights on the Horizon'is available for on Kindle and on paperback NOW. Do it.


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