The Untimely Demise of Friday the Pig

COOLSHANNAGH IS AN ordinary Irish village situated on the coast halfway between Dublin and Belfast. The villagers are pretty ordinary too; Father Joe, a clubfooted priest who likes to dance; Duffy the bar owner who runs a great pub; Stochelo a Gypsy bandolier and his mighty son Miquel; Eamonn McGarvey who loved his pet pig; Ludmilla the one handed Ukrainian Headmistress who escaped the anti-Jewish pogroms of 1881; Mary-Ellen the village elder, wise-woman, and nurse in the Crimean War; Vincenti Quilto the Italian Matchmaker and teller of unlikely fables; Father Dan, a guilt ridden whiskey priest decorated for bravery in the First World war and The Diabhal (Devil) also comes calling intent upon mischief. So, just an unremarkable Irish village going about its daily business; hum-drum times punctuated by birth, death, love, not much hate (except the Devil for whom hate is his only purpose). And every word is true... at least according to my father who came from Coolshannagh and passed these tales on!