Seamus Molloy has a fixed routine around house and farm. At 90, his only companions are the cats he chases away, a neighbor’s dog that frightens him and the clock ticking on the wall. The only disruptions from loneliness are ping-pong balls, rocks and hens chucked through his window. (Apparently) he has two granddaughters who bring him mail, food or messages. Then, with a 60-year delay, a letter arrives from the past and Seamus’ life could be permanently disrupted.
