Duat

Sa'adat al-Masri · 07-27-2011, 08:42 PM

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Her world had been small, lived only with a mother that had constantly feared. Sa'adat had not suffered what Haifa had. Where her mother had worried at the face of each new stranger, Sa'adat had tried to form friendships that had ultimately failed due to her differences — but at least she had tried. Still, her mother's teaching had left fingerprints in her mind, the most prominent being respect for men. Even under her ill delusion, she knew better than to truly fight him. As her strength left her, green eyes focused on the striking gold that settled amongst shades of amber and fire — he hoisted her up onto the brutish animal that was with him, his own body following. She was silent as he held her atop the horse.

The land went by faster than she could have expected on foot, the easy canter of the horse carrying the two to some destination that she had not seen and could not conceive. She was tired. It was too much for her to try and ask questions — the language wasn't there, he could understand her any more than she could understand him and trying to converse was a useless endeavor. So silence became her friend. The jackayote focused her gaze at something in the distance, her mind allowed to roam into the darkness of what world her illness had created. Her fevered mind created faces she'd seen painted on the clay-and-stone walls of the places of worship in Cairo. They were faces she knew and didn't know, but faces that came to her now despite her lack of heritage in the region. What fate would unfold in this unusual, languageless place, under the gaze of Gods she did not wholly trust.

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