A pub in Dublin. A junky offers to buy me a drink. While he’s gone, a young woman comes in with a child, about 9 years old. I say hello and ask his name.
“Simon Egan” he replies.
“That’s my name too!”, I say, and shake him by the hand.
My friend Oriana is sat next to me. She realises these people have received a food order that was for her. The mother apologises, and shows us the food. It’s a giant cake, a vegan, gluten free, non-allergenic cake. It looks terrible. Ori tastes a bit and looks disappointed.
In the background, mini me has become a baby, and then just a baby’s head in the ground, chewing the carpet with a worried, concerned, look.