Write a narrative based on the following in the style of NAME_1: I said, in a measured tone, “Large hot one, Guinness chaser. He bellowed, “What do you want?” Apart from hitting him upside his stubborn head? Then he saw NAME_2, changed his tack completely, tried to stand, said, “Ban Ni Iomaire, conas atá tú?” (How are you?) I wondered if he’d be so fucking cordial if he knew she married a Prod. Her wallet with ID revealed her to be NAME_3, twenty-eight, and she worked in phone sales. There’d been a photo of NAME_4 pinned to the wall beside a poster of a jolly man staring in wonder at a flock of flamingos, pints of the black in their beaks, and the logo My Goodness My Guinness. There was a priest in our parish, named NAME_5, he liked me as I was one hell of a hurler. And me: The same, the shooting, it wasn’t a buzz like the necks, but fuck, cops can’t be choosers, I was cranked on the violence. Save that he lived a long time on the Aran Islands and convinced the world that stage Irish was a reality. Synge in a letter to NAME_6 For the next few weeks, I gathered information on the dead students. She was already asleep, and I touched her face with my fingertips, tracing the line of her jaw. I took a last gulp of the bay and turned towards town, the final line of Padraig NAME_7’s poem…sorrowful. The notice read: Annual Met Dance. Kiss him before he shaved and wear the beard rash like a trophy. Not his real name, but the character from NAME_8’s Dogs of War. ’ If homelessness is the final rung of the downward spiral, then a bedsit may be the rehearsal for desperation. She took a step back, then, “That girl NAME_9…she’s not one of our own, not Irish I mean?” “No, she’s from London. Coming up on Newcastle, I vaguely registered a black van parked ahead. 29, The Crescent Galway Old Galway, maybe old money. I said, “That’s not the reason I’d sign on. ” NAME_10 looked around, then: “You must be out of your cotton-picking mind, bro, NAME_11 is golden, he’s so far up that corporate ladder, he’s bulletproof, he’s not liked but fuck, ain’t nobody gonna go up against him, you do and sayonara sucker. Sitting outside the pub attempting red hot curry, NAME_12 said: ‘D’ya want to kip at my place?’ A passing NAME_13 stopped, said: ‘What’s all this then?’ It took NAME_14 a few moments to focus, then he slurred: ‘Yer bloody nicked, son. You saw the woman who had weathered eighty years, who had witnessed her country dragged screaming into a prosperity that damn