Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Three Hundred and Eighty-Three

Mother named the four sons of her womb North, South, East and West. And the winds took life.

But what of the fifth cherub? Mother’s only daughter was pink and fat with cheeks full of wind and tossing curls. This mischievous imp flittered from quarter to quarter bringing gales and whirlwind as she flew.

“What can we do?” her brothers cried.

Eventually, Father rose from the sea and called his errant daughter to him, his touch making her beauty so transcendent that even the waters followed her.

Selene took wing, and the crescent moon appeared to light the night sky.

©jane jago

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