The next day, when Chelnuk awoke, he felt ill. He had a bad headache and felt sick to the stomach. His father pulled the drapes open, “Come on, rise.”
“Aww my head,” said the lad as he felt his head and groaned, “I feel like I am dying.”
“Too much wine means you get hung over.”
Chelnuk burped, grimaced then vomited by the side of the bed.
“That’s what happens when you eat meat and drink wine, your body is not used to them. Now clear it up.”
“But Dad, can’t Mum…”
“Your mother is not here, you must learn to do things for yourself.”
Chelnuk tumbled out of bed, “What do I use to clean it up?”
Kendra walked to a cupboard near the door, opened it and pulled out some old rags out. “Here some rags, mop the mess up. There is a bucket by the window and a pond in the garden. Draw some water and then wash the floor. Rinse out the rags in the bucket then tip it away outside, but not in the pond.”
The Nephilim watched his son tidy up the mess. When Chelnuk had thrown away the slop he spoke again. “Do you want breakfast?”
“Uh uh,” grunted Chelnuk.
“Here put this on,” he said as he threw a cloak at his son.
“What’s this for?”
“To keep you warm.”
“Why do I need to keep warm?”
“The earth warms up and cools down, hot sun and freezing winter. You were not party to that in the Bosom, but here, unless you dress properly, you could die.”
Solemnly Chelnuk wrapped the cloak around his shoulders.
YOU ARE READING
Kendra
FantasyDark he was and olive eyed. Fierce as the sun and white as the moon. He led an army of 10,000 men all trained in the arts of war. He lived in the Bosom of Abraham with his wife and children, but warred upon the earth to satiate his battle lust and n...
