Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – One Hundred and Seven

Papa Dobo was in agony. His face was hugely swollen and felt like it was on fire.

“How much longer, Mama?” he groaned.

“Maybe hours, maybe only minutes. It’s gonna be soon.”

He leaned his throbbing forehead on his hands and a single tear leaked out from under one eyelid. Mama touched his shoulder and disappeared returning with a brimming cup.

“Here. I think you can drink this now.”

He grabbed the potion and drained it just as the pustule on the immensity that was his chin exploded – expelling a tiny spinning globe into space as another planet was born.

©️jj 2018

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