Seated in the clouds, the council of nine cats, along with the little tabby called Great Mother, stared at a spot on earth, their expressions grave. As they watched, the waters rose and the wind battered everything in its way. The little gray tabby placed her paw on the council elder’s shoulder and cried out in distress, “Oh, no, Ramses, not the kittens.”
He cut his gaze toward Great Mother and put his paw around her. “My dear, we must be prepared for the worst. Let’s go to the bridge.”
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Night Writers
2 comments:
Hi babe! Great book!
Thanks, Lovely Julia, how you be?
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