On my other blog, I tried to write about my mom, but I didn’t like anything I wrote. So, I wrote this instead for what it’s worth. Thanks for reading!
For Time Travelers, Witches, and Saints: A Compendium of Lesser Known Time Travelers and Other Horrors.
The Island of Saintly Mothers remained uninhabited, drifting about in Heaven, quiet and often unseen. One of the gods, however, wandered across it quite by accident on another aimless evening. The god had tired of spinning storms and shaking mountains.
“What is this?” the god asked.
The god’s attending angel peered around the god’s massive form. “Oh that,” the angel replied. “Don’t you remember? It’s a piece of the beginning of the world, the Island of Saintly Mothers.”
The god thought. “I’d forgotten. There was a lot of work those early days.”
The angel nodded. “Yes, and you’ve forgotten about this and the Mountain of—”
“I don’t need a list,” the god snapped and stared hard at the lush island of golden light pushing aside clouds as it moved along currents of air. “Where are the saintly mothers? This is a damn fine island.”
“Well…” the angel began.
The god gave the island a shove and the island rushed forward, causing trees to bend and clouds to part before it like waves until it slowed down to its original speed. “Well?” the god asked.
Looking this way and that, the angel whispered, “The mothers preferred your sister’s place.”
The god turned so quickly around the clouds around them rolled and darkened. “My sister made an island and didn’t tell me?”
The angel’s halo flashed a bit. “Now, you can hardly keep up with your own creations and your sister does what she pleases.”
“And what makes her island so much better than mine?”
The breeze through Heaven changed direction, and the angel shrugged. “It’s for all women,” the angel said. “And they can be themselves.”