Ancient Egypt. Sand. Pharaoh’s Rule. All memories draped in a gold hue. Cleopatra. Papyrus. Moses. Blue is a common color. Hieroglyphics. The Art of Storytelling. Large, towering 3-dimensional, triangular structures. I have not done the research, but why could this have not been built by mankind? Why does it have to fall to Aliens? The human race has transcended, overcome, and has surprised most of all him/herself (or themselves). If I put myself in the time machine and take myself back, wrapped in cool, white cloth and a golden headband around my head, golden bangles around my wrists, I can feel the heat of the ancient desert sun baking my body. No sunglasses, lotion, or baseball caps. I wonder what the ancient Egyptians used for sunscreen…I see the horizon swimming ahead of me, heat so severe, it does not appear in a straight line. As I walk toward the center of town, I smell lunch wafting through the streets. Children run and play, oblivious to the heat. I hear their laughter. The pyramids are these peoples’ skyline. This is their Manhattan. This is what the see from high up, or far way in the distance. No electric lights to guide the way, but torches. Taking off my sandals in the evening, I get a washbasin and work at removing the sand and dirt from my toes. I go to bed wrapped in a white linen sheet. A cool breeze coming in from the window. Somewhere enters the scene of fresh jasmine and lavender.
Pyramids – half a diamond. Desert glacier. Secret tomb.