Mary and Ian were lovers with a fiery passion for each other that burned hotter than the tip of any flame to ever grace a candle’s wick. Together they would meet at Ian’s shed high a top the Cliff of Moher, overlooking the the Sea and all it’s glory. Clinging to each other for warmth, with only their passion for warmth, they would take carnal delight in the flesh of one another. Ian’s very soul was owned by Mary, he had been bewitched by her charms years ago. The nape of her neck, and the way her auburn ringlets swirled upon her bosom drove him wild with desire.
Looking into her blue eyes, he remembered the first time he met her, His undoing. It was his brother Brian’s wedding, his wedding to Mary. Ian knew when he kissed her tiny alabaster hand, and gazed into those same eyes that he was gazing into now, that she was to be his. It was fate. He would leave The Seminary behind, leave everything behind, just to be close to this woman. His manhood became prevalent during their dance, Mary blushed, but felt more than brotherly love for Ian as they danced that first time as well. Politely, he bowed to her, and with an acknowledging smile he excused himself , while his brother Brian sit drunk in the corner spouting various obscenities. Poor Mary, this was to be her Wedding Night, and it looked as if she would have her hands full battling off a drunk.
The crowd grew weary of Brian’s antics, and it was time for Mary to take him home. Ian, chivalrous as he was, offered his assistance to Mary in getting his brother home. Brian was a big man, and whiskey had made him believe he was even bigger and meaner. Mary took one side and Ian the other, as Brian staggered down the road spewing vulgarities all the way.
After what had seemed an eternity they finally reached their home, to begin their married life together. and helped to get Brian undressed and in the bed. As was Brian’s custom. he kept a loaded pistol on his nightstand. Ian was walking out the door when he heard his brother screaming at Mary ” You fucking my brother you whore! You shameless tart, I saw you dancing with him at the party. I’ll not have a ruined wife! ” and with that Brian fired his gun, but Ian’s gun was faster. Brian lay dead. Dead drunk, with a bullet right between the eyes. Mary’s shrill scream could be heard and felt through the whole county.