She visits me in a dream. Isis stands amongst an endless field of reeds. The goddess wears two cow horns on either side of a disk like a crown and she is robed in a kalasiris: a tight-fitting sheath dress.
The sky is blue and cloudless. A slight breeze sways the reeds, the spiky heads scratching at my sides. This is not my home in Alexandria. I am in A'aru; The Field of Reeds. I place my hand on my swollen stomach. I should not be here. I cannot. The gods finally graced us with a child...
'Oh, goddess of fertility and motherhood! Have I died? And what of my child? I am not ready!'
Isis smiles and the field of reeds shimmer like a mirage. The goddess' arms transform into large shimmering wings. The wings envelope me and my unborn child like a protective shield. The goddess does not speak, but when I wake, sweat coating my forehead, the message from my dream is clear: A danger comes. The life of my unborn child is at stake.
YOU ARE READING
In the Reeds (new)
Historical FictionA new and improved version of my 'Wheat' story I wrote back in 2018. This 2022 version I wrote for university. During the reign of Pharaoh Ptolemy XII Auletes, a young woman carrying his child is kidnapped and thrust onto a boat down the Nile River...
