Forgetting How To Physics

By Philip Rowlands

The Dwarven Homeland of Connemara is famous – or infamous – for many things. The network of tunnels that riddle the rugged hills. The canals across the bogs and lakes. The patches of distorted reality that, more than the Fomorians, banshees and snakes, are responsible for the dwarves fleeing their homeland.

 

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"Really, Major? Not even this absolute tosh about 'gravity reversing' that I've heard about past the Corrib?" Ardsbury chortled, eyes twinkling with merriment. Hickie and Kane both smiled with him at first.

"I've seen that happen a few times, and it's not the strangest thing I've seen happen out there," Sidney replied before taking a sip, noting detachedly that their smiles vanished like a rat down a serpentoid's throat. "Some of the...effects can be quite unpleasant. But some are merely bizarre."

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Philip Rowlands
• Release date: Jul 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224924448

Philip Rowlands

Philip Rowlands is a software engineer, originally from Dublin and now resident in Galway. He first got the idea to write fiction set in Co. Galway after recurring hikes into the hills of Connemara while studying Physics at the University of Galway, but it didn't really take off until the COVID lockdowns of 2020-2022.

Book preview

Seeing Through The Wire Skin

Sidney? the upper-class Dublin accent broke into Sidney’s thoughts, causing him to mentally kick himself at the fact that somebody had managed to walk up behind him in spite of the mirror that ran behind the bar. The man who addressed him from his left was taller and thinner than himself, with slicked-back blonde hair. Pinned to the man’s left lapel was a yellow badge with the insignia of the Royal Army Medical Corps.

Robbie Hickie! Fancy meeting you here.

The other man grinned, exposing a missing canine tooth underneath the blonde moustache that had been waxed to points. My favourite watering hole, actually. Haven’t seen you since New Year! I take it you’re on leave?

Indeed, I am. Sidney turned back to accept his glass of whiskey, automatically thanking the barman as he paid, before looking back at Hickie. What are you having?

Actually, myself and the boys already have our drinks. Will you join us? Hickie waved a hand towards a round table about forty feet away, where two heavyset officers leaned back in plush black armchairs. Sidney’s eyes quickly danced over the two glasses on the table, the third in the hands of the one on the left, and the slight glow from the end of the cigar that the other puffed on. He shrugged internally.

Why not. How is Gladys, by-the-by?

She’s expecting, Hickie grinned as he turned back towards the table. As they drew closer, Sidney’s eyes flickered over the two gentlemen. Both were older and, to his eye, past their physical prime. Both had neatly-trimmed black hair and moustaches, but the cigar-smoker wore his parted down the middle, unlike the comb-over that the other sported. The smoker had a rounder chin, ruddier complexion and hazel eyes; his companion bore a narrower and paler face.

Sidney, this is Captain Betram Ardsbury of the Dublin Militia and Major Andrew Kane, RASC. Gentlemen, Major Sidney Nettleson of the Hampshire Regiment. Well, originally anyway. Hickie waved a hand towards the cigar-smoker and then the other man.

The Hampshires? Kane echoed, narrowing his brown eyes into a frown over his tumbler. I thought they were back in Winchester. Which battalion are you with? Sidney managed to suppress a faint smile. Of course one of the Service Corps would keep track of whichever regiments were rotated into and out of Dublin Port.

Actually, I’ve been attached to the West Connacht District for about seven years, Sidney replied as he sat down. Kane’s eyebrows rose as he lowered the tumbler. Beside him, Ardsbury lowered the cigar. "But I can’t really comment too much. Loose lips, and all