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Published 2021
The first story I ever remember my mother telling me was of two brothers who lived just down the road from us in the village of Calbost. These brothers were no ordinary siblings, as both were giants. One day, when out gathering their sheep, they fell out over which path home they should walk their flock. The older brother, Tormod, began to climb the path to the south and his younger brother, Torfi, took the path to the north. They continued to argue, shouting Gaelic insults at each other from across the glen. Torfi picked up a rock the size of a cow and threw it at his brother; the rock bounced off Tormod’s shoulder, smashed into a thousand pieces and rolled down the hill to the shoreline. In a rage, Tormod lifted the biggest rock he could find and threw it at Torfi, who at exactly the same time threw another rock at his brother. The brothers weren’t to know that the rocks they’d heaved into the air had been cursed by the Bean-shìthe (a fairy woman) and, as they hit, would turn them both to stone.