Stony Islands

Thirty-five hundred years of rain fell on Stony Islands before anyone wrote its name. Men drove timber into Lough Ramor's black water and piled stone until a narrow island rose thirty feet above the lake. The smaller islet waited twenty metres east like a shadow detached from its body. Together they became one name on every map, though only the larger is a crannog. The channel between them never froze, never widened, never stopped belonging to both.