Lastborn, a very short story

I asked for prompts to the theme of genesis. This is [personal profile] kelkyag‘s result.

Oshana liked children, or, as her family joked, she liked babies and the having of them. Mostly her oldest two – Jesh and Cory – handled the actual child-rearing parts, with aid from the next two down and so on.

She was one of those women who had a new baby every year, one of those mothers who liked to preside over her ranch of children. By the time Jesh and Cory were old enough to understand that their mother was unusual, they were still young enough to assume that she would go on with a baby a year forever.

When the war came, Oshana was, of course, pregnant. The birth was hard, hiding in a back room while the soldiers prowled the hospital. The child that was born was small, too soon, and very weak.

“Adam,” Oshana whispered. She passed the boy to Jesh. “The lastborn. The genesis.”

It would take them quite some time to understand what she meant.

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