My city. I pondered that phrase, wondered why Barrons felt that way. He never said โour world.โ He always said โyour world.โ But he called Dublin his city. Merely because he'd been in it so long? Or had Barrons, like me, been beguiled by her tawdry grace, fallen for her charm and colorful dualities? I looked around โmyโ bookstore. That was what I called it. Did we call the things of our heart our own, whether they were or not?
Karen Marie Moning