Welcome to the daily grind

IT’S 9.30am and the morning sun is filtering through the window of Insomnia Cafe, Blackrock, Co Dublin.

Outside, a warm breeze is blowing the cobwebs from a small group of office workers. Beside the town’s cross, two construction workers are sipping coffee. They’re a rare breed these days, now that Ireland has been deconstructed. A squatting beggar halfheartedly waves a paper cup, his only audience a small dog, tied to a chair.

South Dublin is slowly taking stock of the day. The morning rush is over. The early risers are at their desks, scooping the remains of the froth from their cappuccino cups.