Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Three Hundred and Seventy-Four

The moorland ridge was exposed to the elements but if Keris wanted to sleep dry she needed to keep walking.

The track finally dropped into the valley, where the houses were deserted and the roofs open to the sky. 

She really had been away too long.

The place where she was born and raised was no more. And where was her mother? Her sisters?

The wind stole her heartbroken cry, tossing it like candyfloss into the stormy sky. 


Keris couldn’t believe her ears, but she followed the wind into the sucking mud where her mother’s hands pulled her down.

©jj 2019

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