alhammitt_alhammittsson: (Looking for home)
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The soldiers who found Mitt on the Old Flate took him much less seriously than the tall Lan, and by the time they brought him back to Dike End, Mitt had almost forgotten about his secret place. Only slightly less fuzzy was his memory of the strange restaurant on the Flate, though with his mother’s glad crying and praises of the Earl’s son, Navis, who had found him and his father’s gruff admonitions not to wander off again, he was quickly distracted.

It was a few days later when he remembered, suddenly, in the morning time when his dad had already gone to milk the cows and his mother was mending one of his shirts. “Where’s Milkeer?” he asks her with a curious tilt of his head.

“Milkeer?” Milda repeats, amused, turning her head to look at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a place. What makes you ask?”

“There was a man in a place that was just there and wasn’t later and he said he was from Milkeer,” Mitt tells her in a rush.

“Oh, Mitt,” she says with a laugh, dimpling down at him. “You’re a free soul, you are.”

And he laughs, too, because it is sort of funny isn’t it?

He was three by the time the place that was there and then wasn’t showed up again.


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Mitt (or Al, or Ham) son of Al (or Mitt, or Ham)

December 2009

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