Le buíochas do Mháire hOibicín Uí Eidhin, Camas agus an Spidéal, Co naGaillimhe

There had been no sign of the cat, Blacky, since morning and he was out in the yard, looking for it, when he heard the sound carrying through the warm evening air. He recognized it at once – the throb and the rattle of the lorry on the stony road. He hurried back inside and waited by the window, hoping they would pass. But he knew they wouldn’t – this was the last house on the road. They would have had to go out of their way to get this far.

Soon the lorry came into sight, cresting the top of the hill, five or six of them crouched in the back, ready to jump out as soon as it stopped. He couldn’t tell if they were the same ones who had gone past the school a few times, shouting something he didn’t understand as they passed.

Now the lorry was pulling up outside. As they were jumping off, one of them slipped and cursed.

He stepped away from the window. Then he heard their lowered voices and the crunch of their boots and there was a loud rap on the door.

Before he could move to open it, the door was flung open and three of them came in. A smell he’d never smelt before came with them. He thought it must be from the guns or from the ammunition ...