With the pungent aroma of the incense setting the mood, Roz made herself comfortable on the bed and began her meditation ritual.

When she visualized the lush wooded sanctuary of her happy place, it again filled with the white mist. Then the white bird appeared in the distance. It flew toward her then veered away. As Roz followed it, she walked out of the whiteness into bright sunlight and hot sand.

Two men were walking toward her, tanned, bare-chested and wearing light-colored?were those loincloths? The men didn?t seem to notice her, but she wanted to hide anyway. Roz turned to look for a place and froze.

The Sphinx, the Sphinx stood before her up to its neck in sand. She blinked several times. It was still there. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.

Dozens of men were busy removing the sand that, Roz could now see, partially covered only the left side of the structure. In its shadow was a white tent, the sides billowing like an accordion being played by the wind. Behind the tent, one of the pyramids rose upward into the purplish-blue sky.

The forgotten men walked right past Roz without noticing her. Whatever was going on, she was not a physical presence in this place.

The sand shifted beneath her weight and Roz looked down to see her feet disappear as the hot grains filled in around them. She knelt down, scooped up handfuls of sand and let it sift through her fingers. The heat of the sun was like a hand pressing down on the top of her head. A trickle of sweat slid down her back.

So she could feel the things around her, touch them, hear the noises. Roz inhaled. She could breathe the air.

A gust of wind blew and Roz turned her head to avoid getting sand in her eyes. Her sundress plastered against her body, the folds of her skirt wrapping around her legs. She quickly braided her hair to keep it from getting hopelessly tangled.

Roz made her way toward the tent. If she remembered her history, the Sphinx had been reclaimed by the desert and uncovered many times. This must be one of the many excavations.

When she was close to the tent, Roz walked up to one of the men standing outside. "Can you see me?" The man pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his forehead.

"So I have a free pass here," she said to the unaware man. "It's too bad I don't speak whatever it is you're all speaking. I'd love to know what's going on. I wonder what year it is." She walked over to the tent and peeked inside.

A tall man wearing a pith helmet and stroking a perfectly waxed mustache was studying papers spread out on the table in front of him. His clothes didn't look present-day. On the other hand, the Sphinx had been around long enough to be covered at least once by the desert.

Roz looked back toward the enormous face of the Sphinx. The symmetry of its features was amazing for something so large. It truly was a marvel. She was taking in every detail when the little hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Then it struck her. The nose, the Sphinx?s nose was intact. Every picture Roz could remember showed the Sphinx without a nose.

Looking around, she noticed how dark it had gotten. The workers were scurrying around like ants on honey, struggling against the wind that had gotten cooler and stronger. The clouds above them had gathered into huge flat-topped masses. The sky had turned a peculiar green. Fat raindrops plunged into the dry sand like bullets.

A rainstorm, how odd was the only thought she had before a brilliant flash and a violent bang ripped through the sky. Roz pitched backward. She hit the ground just as another crack of thunder split the air. Blown about by the escalating wind, sand and rain struck her cheeks. A jagged finger of lightning shattered the Sphinx's nose, followed by a crack so loud that it hurt her ears. Something hit her chest.

"Get out of this, Roz," she whispered. "Get out before you die."

top

 

 

iBooks USA : iBooks UK : iBooks Australia : iBooks CA : Kobo : Inkterra : 24 Symbols