Black Lisburn Linen

You looked back over your shoulder — the coast was clear. The rag protecting the tinbox, soft in your hands, smelled of diesel from a time long passed…and with it you filled your lungs. Wrapped up within, the box had an illustration of an old fisherman with a pipe stuck in his mouth. “Lisburn’s Lozenge’s”. You gave it a shake. Nothing. So, you opened it slowly, eyes adapting to the blackness within. It took some time as the texture of it contents made you dizzy. A small swatch of black linen. Full bodied, so as to crumple rather than crease, if worn as a suit. Eureka! And what a suit!