when the bastard went to Ireland…
he searched for his name…
while walking amongst the his people.
Ireland is a funny country.
it winds…
it's storied…
and it's full of the craik.
on several occasions…
a local…
any local…
would chat me up about America.
where I was from.
what my name was.
"oh, there's plenty a you here", was always the response.
upon greater research, my name is anglicized from the word for foreigner.
and with that I deduced that the land of my people was invaded by my people.
probably in long boats and with stolen steel.
which brings me to this weak's reading.
northlanders is a series of one off stories about various people from the north.
and it's goddam beautiful.
read it now, not later
—the bastard
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