Part time morgue attendant Martin Sweeney stared blankly at himself in the mirror behind the bar of The Ramble Inn this afternoon, having been woken from a short nap by the sound of his own snoring.
“I see dead people everywhere,” he slurred at proprietor Eamon Halligan who was wiping the counter in front of him.
Sweeney, who’d earlier spent an unusually quiet shift at the hospital morgue drinking and watching The Sixth Sense, leaned forwards to tap the counter repeatedly with his index finger.
“Ev ree where!” he repeated for emphasis.
Intensely irritated at being distracted from his cryptic crossword, ‘early drinker’ Thomas Joseph Guiney addressed a series of rhetorical questions to him.
“Do you work in the intensive care unit, Martin? No you don’t. Do you work in the coronary care unit? No, you do not. Might you work in the eternal care unit? I think you just might and if your conversation is anything to go by, the time must fly”.