I didn’t really have a lot of time to research Irish traditions and history so it’s mostly on the generic side. And my little saying is made up (as far as I know). The one Jack says is real, though.
4000 words | [PG]
May good luck be your friend in whatever you do and may trouble be always a stranger to you. Sam and Jack find they don’t mind taking part in some alien traditions.
Stepping out of the ‘Gate was like stepping into the past. The simple stone buildings with their thatched roofs and rough-hewn doors looked like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. The locals looked a bit confounded as the blue event horizon blinked out of existence leaving the town square feeling a little closed in.
“Howdy, folks,” Jack called, his arm waving wide.
A gurgle of chatter rose up among the people—hushed whispers, gasps of surprise, urgent orders. Several boys dashed down a cobbled street, glancing over their shoulders as they ran.