GHENGIS KHAN by Gloria Moress

(Note: The following story was the result of a 10 minute writing exercise during our last meeting. The writer was asked to incorporate the following words: Genghis Khan, a yurt, mare's milk and yak stew.)

He leaned over his wife's motionless body and took the bundle of cloths from where the midwife had placed it in the crook of her arm. Outside the yurt, the women had taken up positions facing each of the gods, and were united in their gutteral wailing for the departed spirit. He was alone.

The yak stew bubbled on the small cooking fire, but the baby in his arms made no sound. He was encouragingly pink, although his dark crop of hair was tinged red with his mother's blood. There were no women nursing now, he'd been told, so the old woman would feed the boy mare's milk. If he lived, he would be called Ghengis.

Gloria Moress ©