Scéaleenies

“We decided, together, not to see.” 
On a remote Irish peninsula, the priest was the centre of everything.
He visited homes at night. Boys came home pale. Once, during a storm, a child saw him in the graveyard, listening.
No one ever proved anything.
But the parish decided, together, not to see.
New original Irish folk horror audio story now available.

Airports - The pinnacle of modernity. Long-haul flights, high technology and ever shorter attention spans. 
Dolmens - The ancient stone-age sentinels surrounded by folklore and memories older than nations and cultures. 
This is a tale of what happens when the two shall meet. When modern mundanity observes ancient exceptionalism and the curious get a glimpse into the place where the veil is thinnest.

A tale about an underground practice, where participants secretly inspect strangers’ homes, document every detail, and leave no trace. As the practice spreads, the boundaries between observer and observed begin to collapse.

Best experienced in one uninterrupted listen, after sweeping your house for listening devices.
Short audio fiction

A stormy night folk tale about music, migration, and the pull west. 
This episode presents a spoken reading of The Emigrant Song, a literary folk-horror story set in Dublin on a stormy night near the equinox.
As a tune rises in a city pub, people begin to leave, calmly and irresistibly, drawn westward out of the capital and toward the Atlantic. The story unfolds as a meditation on Irish emigration, collective memory, and the unsettling possibility that departure itself is not always a choice, but a tradition with its own momentum.
Rooted in Irish history and myth, The Emigrant Song treats music as a force, migration as inheritance, and home as the place where leaving begins.
A restrained, atmospheric piece about Ireland, weather, and the long echo of goodbyes.
 Best heard on a stormy evening, in a warm pub, with half of your third pint glowing inside of you.

A wish, a loophole, and a Lidl car park. 
This episode presents a spoken reading of a modern folk tale set in a familiar and deeply unremarkable place: a supermarket car park in the Irish Midlands.
When an ordinary man encounters an ancient, shape-shifting being bound to grant a single twisted wish, he turns to the most contemporary authority available to him: artificial intelligence. What follows is a story about language taken too seriously, precision mistaken for safety, and the unsettling continuity between old supernatural bargains and modern systems of logic.
By placing folklore, legalism, and AI reasoning side by side, the piece explores how control, certainty, and meaning break down when faced with entities that treat words not as communication, but as rope.
A wry, unsettling short story about wishes, stillness, and the blink of a cursor that never stops.
Best listened to on a good sound system, in triplicate.