Colleen and Alexia threw together this St. Patty's Day blogfest. Point is to do a very brief (200-ish words) flash fiction about anything Irish.
Me, I chose to play with the typical stereotypes. There is a prize involved, so feel free to talk me up in the comments so the judges pick me! And then go here to check out the rest of the participants.
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After all these years, I finally found me a leprechaun! He ain't happy 'bout it, but I'm stalking his arse until we get to the end of this rainbow. I always knew this day would come, even when they told me I was gone in the head for believing in wee little men who wear green leotards.
"Had a few too many pints of whiskey, Shamus?" they said.
Gah! Feckers didn't want to believe I could do it, so they'll be getting none of me gold. They can buy their own damn Guinness.
"How much longer 'til we get there, squirt?" I asked the little feller.
He turned around to glare at me -- looking like two and a half feet of emerald fury -- before a creepy smile crawled onto his face. "Not much further now."
I didn't like that look, but kept my yap shut.
When we rounded a bend in the trees and the rainbow came to an end, tears o' joy streamed down me face. But one look inside the black cast-iron pot and my heart sank. "Are those . . . potatoes?"
With a smug smile, he gave a shrug of one shoulder. "Bad economy."
So, after all these years, I still don't have me pot of gold . . .but I do got a lovely stuffed leprechaun now hanging above the fireplace.
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Also, because this is the holiday of my people and I love all things Irish, here's a little bonus. This is what's considered "Irish Rap".
