I Found

i. "and no escape,"

Italics are hieroglyphs.

A M U N E T

After changing into a fresh set of clothing, I hopped into my driver's seat. I made sure to put on a jacket to keep myself warm in the chilly dawn weather and to place my signature scarf over my head, then I started my journey.

Climate change certainly did not forget the Egyptian Sahara. Three thousand years ago – back in the day, the weather was all shades of warm. Now, it went from dry and scorching to chilling cold; rain, however, still rarely graced the inhabitants.

One could rarely know for sure if it was to rain or if the nights would have a chill or if they would be warm. One could only predict the Saharan weather and be wrong often.

It reminded me of someone I used to know – of a time I used to belong to a place and to people very briefly.

And the people I once belonged to were as unpredictable as the weather even when I recognized the heat behind their eyes – his eyes.

His heated anger, his heated rebellion, his heated care with which he beheld me-

His great treachery.

Even when I thought I knew his knowledgeable mind, I could not predict him often.

And because I could never understand his mind, I had to keep searching.

Seeing a sandstorm over the horizon, I reached my hand for my rucksack to search blindly through it. When I recognized my goggles, I pulled them out to put them on. Then, I drew my scarf over my mouth and nose.

Search, find food and water, search, navigate, search, sleep and search again – my three thousand year old routine.

Of course with the pauses of more disappointment, self-pity and service somewhere along the way.

I only hoped this would all be worth it eventually.

Would it, though? What if I could not find what my heart required?

I dedicated my entire existence to finding him – connected my lifeline to that quest. What if it was all worth nothing? Why did I keep searching? If it had been merely for love, I would have given up long ago, as love had given up on me long before that.

My determination not to give up disgusted me sometimes.

Except for those few times...

After everything he had done and everything he had not done, still I could not bring myself to let go.

I needed to see him one more time.

I needed to know.

Whenever the frustration, the hunger and my strained muscles became too much to go on, I would lay on the warm sand to rest my head and stare at the constellations which he had taught me about. I would remember a life so far away, yet too vivid for me to believe that I was no longer there – the life of a girl who was bent and broken too many times and gave up too easily on hopes and doors, especially when she thought they could no longer lead anywhere. That girl always needed teaching in so many fields of life that it was a surprise she was a teacher – a priestess.

No, I was not naïve. I was stupid.

I believed my silence was the right thing to do back then, but the right thing was never to turn a blind eye to the wrong. Had I the opportunity to o back, knowing what I knew now, I would have turned my back on everything the first chance I got – left and never looked over my shoulder at them – him – again...