Pádraig Barry (PJ)
@pjbarry.bsky.social
9K followers 9.2K following 3K posts
Retired shaggy guy. Nurses and surgeons are my heroes. An English Major Should Have Been, LH Guy explains a lot, Married to a Saint, What a Great Life We Are Having Together 🚫porn
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pjbarry.bsky.social
You write great stories. Thank you.
pjbarry.bsky.social
It’s a bit late arriving here in Harwich. Wind is picking up though. Dehydration is nothing to mess with. So happy you got help and are on the mend.
PS we rode out from NY because all our chairs and stuff were on the balcony. Now we’ll just ride it out. Storms are king of fun.
Reposted by Pádraig Barry (PJ)
chrissysea.bsky.social
Happy Canadian Thanksgiving tomorrow. 🇨🇦
Happy Thanksgiving Canada 🇨🇦
pjbarry.bsky.social
PJ watched the piranhas circle the bait, silver and quick. It reminded him of the señoritas in Madrid, hungry and beautiful. He had his pole in the water then too, but somehow he never found him one that was a keeper.
#vss365
pjbarry.bsky.social
The taste of the coffee was bitter and clean. She drank it slowly, watching the sun rise over the empty street. The light came in thin, pale ribbons, brushing the tops of the buildings. A bicycle rolled past and she thought of the mornings in Paris when the bread came fresh and warm.
#vssmagic
pjbarry.bsky.social
At first Luis tried to calculate the angle of the fade, but Helene moved with instinct, not numbers, her hands knew the function of transformation better than any ruler. Helene taught her apprentice that beauty wasn’t a function of symmetry. It was a calculation of survival, of joy.
#2WordPrompt
pjbarry.bsky.social
Saint Teresa’s. had been closed by the diocese. Falling attendance and the mounting legal troubles of the diocese had caused it to be contracted. The church was empty save for the lumen falling through the stained glass, painting the pews with stories of the saints no one told anymore.
#blueskyrelay
pjbarry.bsky.social
I heard there were grandmothers, crocheting grandmothers rioting. The horror!
pjbarry.bsky.social
Lindsay could ride out the fiercest of hurricanes, emotional or meteorological She wore her yellow raincoat like a shield, bright against the gray, daring the world to name her anything but radiant.
#vss365
pjbarry.bsky.social
Sally and Cindy unearthed old photographs from their mother’s attic, each one a spell, a proof of beauty that had once dared to bloom. They had only known their grandmother as an old lady, but here she was vibrant and beautiful. The sisters were overjoyed to see her this way.
#vssmagic
pjbarry.bsky.social
The thing about transformation is it never asks permission, it just shows up, unannounced, wearing your favorite top like it owns the place. One minute you’re folding laundry, the next you’re staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering when you started looking like someone else.
#2WordPrompt
pjbarry.bsky.social
Jolene, I saw him listening to your laughter like it was a hymn, and I knew I’d already lost him. I stood there, invisible in the doorway, watching the moment he stopped being mine. I’m wiser now. I won’t beg you this time. If he goes for someone like you, he is not good enough for me.
#moonmystic
pjbarry.bsky.social
Yes. Something like that for sure.
pjbarry.bsky.social
The oeuvre of Padraig’s very short writings holds the ache of exile and the balm of belonging, stitched together with the thread of radical compassion, but mostly, of course, they are balderdash.
#blueskyrelay
pjbarry.bsky.social
Amanda didn’t just walk into the conference. She arrived with verve, her boots loud on the tile and her eyeliner sharp enough to rewrite the day’s agenda. She was as intimidating as she was beautiful and no one doubted her intellect.
#vss365
pjbarry.bsky.social
Her jacket reflected the woman Claire had become. Every stitch in her jacket was a chapter in her evolution: punk patches, velvet cuffs, and a lining sewn from old lover’s tee shirts.
#vssmagic
pjbarry.bsky.social
Eílis always believed styling hair went well beyond the superficial. He once said to me, “In every instance where style becomes sanctuary, I write the body as altar, adorned with intention.” I think that as much as anything is why she had such a successful business back in the day.
#2WordPrompt
pjbarry.bsky.social
Thank you. I’m not a poet and I know it. 😀
pjbarry.bsky.social
She didn’t need forgiveness. She needed respite; from the gaze, from the performance. The kind of quiet that doesn’t ask her to explain, doesn’t press her to smile. She had spent years curating softness for survival, offering grace where none was returned. Now, she wanted stillness.
#blueskyrelay
pjbarry.bsky.social
Charlie waltzed over to our table. Amanda had an immense dislike of him. She called him a libertine. Her words hung in the air like smoke. I drank my wine and poured myself another. The wine was mellow. Right now I needed mellow.
#vss365