off. The white robe was incredibly soft and very comfy on him, it was made from pure cotton he presumed. He wore his turban, and tightened it up, he swung around as if a young girl announcing the coming of a new panty, pity there is no mirror here.
He dabbed his face with some powder to look more Arab, satisfied with his adornment though, without a mirror, he set out, opened the door, and spread his arms wide so that the group outside could see.
"Now, that's nice Tom, wear your beads, where're your beads?" Ruput asked.
"Beads? Oh yeah. Let me go and get it right away. " Tom rushed back inside the tent.
After a while, he appeared again and they were ready to go.
There
As they stepped into the cave-like entrance through the corner of the pyramid, they heard echoes of footsteps. Very few guards were lazily sleeping by the side in a perfunctory manner to cover for the praying group while one or two of them were shuffling around, yawning and muttering of which a non-Egyptian can not make out. Some of the invading group members became alarmed. They thought that since they have managed to isolate and evade the guard group manning the entrance that it will be a hitch-free ride. However, as some weak-minded and unsteady ones were beginning to whisper and make whimpering noises, Ruput's hand appeared in the air, he brought it to his lips and opened the side of his robe, a purple bottle with a stopper surfaced along with his hand, he pulled the stopper and pressed the top of the bottle and a wifty dreamy aroma suffused the air. With his hands, he beckoned on them to move f
She could have been in her father's house watching her mother make sausages and bake casseroles and dishing them hot on this beautiful Saturday morning. But her heart won't give her a moment of rest, it has betrayed her and pushed her to do the unthinkable, washing away her pride as it comes. She was just a chaste girl, intelligent, and had her life planned out to the details. All she ever needed to do is to grind down and focus on observing her routines which she had never complained about. She loved her life, knowing what to do next and how to do it. They say she's still so young and doesn't understand, but the whole thing feels like a hoax because she knows what she's doing and understands. She had dreams she had wanted to chase, it was never a burden to continue writing each day to win the interstate writing competition, and she's not limited to that, being the youngest ever to re
Deeper and deeper into the maze Tom and his group went. They followed a particular passageway down. They have been walking for about eight hours straight now and they are beginning to sweat. After some turns, they arrived at a junction that resembles a conglomeration of halls. Tom consulted his map and compass again and whispered, "Seems to be the hall on the left, adjacent to the one with the broken door." "What did you say? " a member of the group asked. "We are heading right. " Ruput answered. "What? " Tom asked bewildered. "You are reading the compass wrong. It's upside down. " Ruput coolly answered.
Bewildered, he was jittery, sweats all over his face. Steam from his sweats was clouding his eyes. He had to shake his head to clear off those vapors. He could feel his legs heating up like coals on fire. It was a desperate moment and It calls for desperate actions. If anything, he has to run forward once more, that was his best option. Staying here and hoping that they don't have the grit and direction to find him here is tantamount to leaving his destiny on their hands. He has to take a step, but before that; his map. Just as he was about to do so, his leg wobbled and he staggered back until his back hit the wall and his hands flung on a torch hanging there like all others around the pyramid but looking spoilt. Then something that could only be heard of in his wildest dreams happened and he was taken aback. Shocked
Tom felt a stinging sense of relief that he couldn't help shouting despite himself and the circumstances. "Hei! At last. Hmmmm" his chest rose and fell and he slumped there and fell asleep. Over on the other side of the pyramid, an ocean of cataclysmic proportions has formed under the beams of one of the upended pyramid torches. A swish of a robe and a glimpse of a swollen eye, she brought her face up to the full illumination of the lights. Heidi, it is. There on the floor of the brazen pyramid grounds, she sat like a heap of crumpled snorkack. Time has passed, days probably as there is no way she can calculate sitting there in the dingy interior of the pyramid. But one thing is sure, Tom is not coming out. Should have sounded awful yet did not. She h
Now, the room slowly unraveled itself to him. There, in front of him was a sacred altar which was emanating a warm white glow. Behind the alter stood a sculpture of a sanctimonous monk with the facial features of a pharaoh gazing directly at him aith his hands clasped. And a western-church tinted oval window behind the alter letting in a bright and stunning light. Tom took his time to take in the place. This looked like a small room, because there was a shelf just right behind him which seems to be covered with decayed hide and skin, likewise the wall opposite. A little table was by his right hand side with what seems like the remains of a dog scattered all over it though in a bizarre fashion. The skull of the dog was still intact with its jaw only that a sizable amount of the jaw was missing. Strangely, the skull of the dog still looks like an animate sentient being, no matter how hard Tom tried to stop overthinking it, he can't just shake out the fe
He opened his eyes after the momentary sleep and walked over to a part of the room. There he saw a full earthen pot of water. He realised that he has never foe once glanced at that side of the room nor have examined it. And there sat not one earthen pot of water but at least five of them. And a shelf made of wood hanging over them. On the shelf were pots of different sizes, stainless plates and cutlery. He saw a kerosene stove on the topmost shelf and some jugs of cooking utensils he had never seem before. He wondered how he had missed all this while surveying the room before and them remembered that all the time his eyes were fixed on the painting that he found and thanked had been engrossed thinking about it and the implications and had not worries about the whole room again. He hurriedly sprang up on an earthen pot standing just under the upholstered shelf and retrieved the stove a
Tom saw himself travelling through eras, times, seasons, generations, periods, and the whole thing was overwhelming. He saw the cry of witches, burned at the stake for their abilities. He saw innocent souls accused of plotting against the state just because of personal animosity, disagreements and show of power. He saw men who did wondrous things with the powers of their beliefs being hung on trees and made to enjoy the feeling of flames feeding on faggots. He saw clergies, priests, Freemasons, native prophets, seers, being burnt, pillaged like casseroles, struck brutal with knives and staves, bludgered with cubs by angry mobs, roasted like unwanted rabbits, drowned with milestones around their necks and sent to their early graves while their breath still remains with them.