David Philip Ireland
Bio
David Philip Ireland was born in Cheltenham in 1949
David has published work in music, novels and poetry.
To discover David’s back catalogue, visit: linktr.ee/davidirelandmusic
Stories (43/0)
Slow Poison - Chapter Six
Chapter Six Cheltenham December 8th He let himself into the basement flat with difficulty. The padlock seemed to be out of alignment, as though recently forced. The unlit steps down to the entrance would not allow a clear view. Piles of damp newspapers littered the space around the door. A shirt lay crumpled along a sill, a makeshift draught excluder. A dirty towel was pinned over a broken window, keeping something out, or something in. None of the lights in the dingy apartment seemed to be working. The place was bitterly cold. The body sprawled across the filthy sheets in the curtain-less bedroom looked like a corpse, long dead from hypothermia, a Belsen wreck.
By David Philip Ireland3 years ago in Criminal
Slow Poison - Chapter One
Chapter One Amsterdam, 1986 Killing Time. Red lights glowed like cinders in the crisp December air. Trim shivered in Armani camel, watching the doorway of the Casa Rosso. This was the evening of the third day. He watched and waited, smoking an hour away, waiting for The Six. Den, Pete, ‘Dog’, Mart, Kev and Ritchie; feral pack animals, careering through the City of Love, leaving a trail of phlegm and expensive scratches, wrist-high on Mercedes lacquer.
By David Philip Ireland3 years ago in Criminal
Slow Poison - Chapter Three
Chapter Three Seated in a dark corner of The Rode Leeuw, Trim removed his black kid gloves and folded them neatly and placed them upon the tabletop. He took the diary from his coat pocket and opened it at random. He read the familiar passages for several moments. No one had noticed him enter the bar. He knew he should wait, but he needed a drink.
By David Philip Ireland3 years ago in Criminal
Slow Poison - Chapter Five
Chapter Five Amsterdam, December 7th Centraal Station was a lonely place at six thirty on a Sunday morning. The newspaper kiosks were not yet open. There were bundles of newspapers stacked against the aluminium security screens tied up with coloured twine. Piles of De Telegraaf, The Sunday Times, Das Welt and all the others. Trim slipped an Express from its stack and leaned back against a screen. He glanced at a few lines about the violence in Amsterdam at the bottom of the front page, before dropping the newspaper to the floor. He would wait for the Sun on Monday. The diary would suffice as reading matter for the journey.
By David Philip Ireland3 years ago in Criminal
The Magic of the Open G
The Magic of the Open G (c) David Philip Ireland How to tune a guitar to and open G tuning I’ve been happy writing songs over the years and decades on my trusty six string acoustic guitar. Nothing fancy, just a good dreadnaught Tanglewood. Lightweight strings, regular tuning. Some good songs emerged, some successes here and there…and then came the lockdown.
By David Philip Ireland3 years ago in Beat