St. Patrick’s day is Sunday, so I decided to do a short story, taking place on the emerald isle! One of my best friends picked out three things that had to be in this story.
- A lady that is obsessed with braiding
- A man who raises llamas
- In a utopia setting
I have also added some Irish slang into the story. Here are the words I used and their meanings.
- What’s the craic~ How’s it going/how are you?
- Sound~ Good
- Thick as a plank~ Stupid
- Slagging~ Making fun of someone
- Gas~ Funny
This story is meant to be fun and light hearted! Comment below if you got a laugh out of it! On with the story!
“Why me? Mam knows I hate going out. She could’ve sent Joe to get her llama.” Katie grumbled as she slammed her car door and strode towards the barn where the owner of the llama farm stood just inside the door.
As she drew near, she could see that the man looked nice enough. Gray eyes, dark wavy hair, and built tall, and thin. She noticed the laugh lines on his face, and knew what kind of reaction she would receive when he heard about her stupid curse.
He stepped forward, holding out his hand. “What’s the craic? I’m Torryn O’Neal. Owner of this place.” His smile was contagious and she felt herself smiling back into those deep gray eyes.
“I’m sound, you?” She shook his hand, forgetting about the bit of rope she had been braiding. “I’m Kate Riley. I’m here to get one of your llamas for my mam.”
He dangled the braid between them.
“What’s this for?” He handed it back and they started into the barn. “For some project of yours?”
Katie groaned silently. Why did they always have to ask?
“If you must know, it all started when I was ten. I had managed to catch a stupid little leprechaun, and as you know, when one is caught, they will grant you three wishes for their freedom. At that time in my young, innocent, life, I wanted nothing more than to braid. It’s as think as a plank, I know, but I couldn’t for the life of me, figure out how to braid, and I was the only girl in my class that couldn’t.” She glared at Torryn, who was full out belly laughing at this point.
“Don’t stop now, keep going!” He managed to gasp out.
“You are gas, you know.” she signing. “So I asked the leprechaun to make me the best braider in my class, so he did, saying, “Practice, Practice, is what makes you good, little girl!”
From then on I couldn’t stop braiding. It was my last wish too, so I couldn’t have done anything about it. And the worse part of the trick, is that I can’t lie about it! I’ve tried, but every time the story just comes pouring out.”
They had stopped by her mam’s llama, Torryn laughing so hard that he was using the stall to keep him upright. Katie was glaring at him, fingers braiding, and her face flaming.
“You know,” he tried to catch his breath, “Most little girls would have asked for candy, clothes, dolls, kitten, or a pony! But braiding?!” He shook his head. “You have got to be slagging me.”
“I wish I was, but it’s the awful truth. I was thick as a plank, and tried to get the best of a leprechaun, and now I’m cursed for life. Can we just get this over with?”
What did you think? It hasn’t been edited, so it’s got faults, for sure! Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I wasn’t sure how to finish it, without making this post super long. So there you go! What did you think of Irish slang? They have some pretty interesting phrases and words!