Welcome to The Spot Writers. The prompt for this cycle is “someone falls in love at a museum.”
This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is an Italian author and currently lives in Berlin, Germany. She writes fiction, with a focus on children’s literature and science fiction
“An Unlikely Love Story” by Chiara De Giorgi
Night had fallen on the soon-to-be-opened Grand Museum of Antiquities, and silence finally reigned in its halls. Porters had been coming and going all day, bringing in valuable relics.
Each artifact bore a label indicating which room it should be placed in; there were Egyptian Rooms, Chinese Rooms, Roman Rooms and so on. Some had no label at all and had been put in the storeroom, where only the lights from the emergency exit and the moonbeams filtering through the roof window split the darkness…
“Of course they would shove me into a storeroom again. Never once have I found someone smart enough to recognize me and give me the honors I deserve. Always tossed to and fro, without grace or care. And now here I am, forgotten and neglected, locked in a dark storage room next to a stinking mummy…”
“Ahem, excuse me… Are you talking about me?”
“Oh, great… The mummy talks! Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
“And aren’t you supposed to be, like, a piece of stone?”
“Stone! Stone, it says! This is marble, if you must know.”
“I could have done without knowing it, to be honest. But okay. Marble! Yay!”
“Are you making fun of me, you cadaver wrapped in bandages under questionable hygienic conditions?”
“Look, if we are to entertain conversation, I’d rather you referred to me with my name. I am Akhethetep. I used to be a priest and I served the goddess Qebhet.”
“Really? That’s interesting… I am Ersa, a goddess too. Will you serve me?”
“Well… I don’t think that’s allowed. My goddess may get jealous if I do. Anyway, what kind of goddess are you?”
“I am the Greek goddess of dew.”
“…of what?”
“Do you have bandages in your ears, Aktepepet? I’m the goddess of dew! Dew! Tiny drops of water that can be seen on flowers and blades of grass in the early morning, when the first, pale rays of the sun come out to illuminate the world emerging from the darkness of the ni—”
“Yes, yes, I get it. And my name is Akhethetep, not Aktepepet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite, yes.”
“Oh, okay then. If you say so… By the way, what kind of goddess is your goddess?”
“Qebhet… She’s one of the afterlife divinities. The souls of the departed meet her while they’re awaiting judgment, and she offers them cool water.”
“A-ha. So she offered water to you, too? ‘Cause you are, you know… departed.”
“That, I am. And yes, I met her, and she offered me water.”
“Did you drink it?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
“Why didn’t you wash your bandages instead? Just asking.”
“I guess it didn’t occur to me.”
“I can tell… They look like a health hazard. Also, unwashed bandages tend to release a certain… aroma after seven thousand years, you know.”
“I suppose you are correct.”
“What is it that you have there?”
“You mean this thing? It’s a preserved white lotus, one of my favorite fruits.”
“And where did you get it?”
“Ah, it was buried with me after I died. But I am going to offer it to you if you wish to taste it.”
“As a matter of fact, I think I wish to. At least it’s an original distraction. There’s never anything interesting to do in a storeroom.”
“We can trade stories.”
“Trade stories with a mummy?”
“Yes… Why? Do you have previous engagements?”
“I… No, and I can’t reach your lotus. Why did you have to put it so far?”
“I have limited ambulatory capacity. My apologies, my Lady. The bandages that are wrapped around me hinder my movements. Don’t you have any objects you could use to extend your reach?”
“I have no objects, I was sculpted in all my naked glory and I don’t need anything, thank you very much! I am the goddess of dew, have you already forgotten?”
“I haven’t, but I fail to understand what that has to do with anything… I’m sorry to hear you’re stark naked, you must be cold. Would you like some of my bandages?”
“For goodness’ sake! I certainly don’t want to catch a disease!”
“I don’t think you would… I’ve been wrapped in these bandages for thousands of years and I never got sick. Not even once!”
“Listen, I think I wish to sleep now. Can you shut up?”
“Of course, goddess Ersa. Good night.”
“Good night.”
The sun rose and sent its rays through the roof window.
“Hekketep! Wake up”
“Yes, my Lady? And, once again, it’s Akhethetep.”
“That’s what I said. Aktepepep.”
“Akhethetep. Anyway. What can I do for you?”
“I’m bored.”
“Why don’t you go back to sleep? It’s still early.”
“Did you forget I’m the goddess of dew? I’m always up at first lights!”
“Oh, okay then. Let me tell you stories from when I was a young priest and a scribe and I lived in Egypt in its glorious times…”
One story after the other, Ersa was captivated by the exotic tales Akhethetep told her. She felt like she could see the golden sand of the desert, the lush green vegetation on the banks of the Nile, the impetuous waters of the river, the crocodiles, the camels, the exquisitely embroidered carpets…
Finally, it was dusk. Akhethetep sighed.
“That was my last story for today, my Lady. I hope you had a good time. And I hope I could ease your boredom.”
Ersa did not reply immediately.
“Are you sleeping?” the priest asked.
“No, I’m awake. Your stories were beautiful. Thank you.”
“It was a pleasure to entertain you.”
“Will you do that tomorrow, too?”
“If you wish, I will.”
“I wish! And… may I ask you something else, Akhethetep?”
The mummy laughed happily.
“My lady, you said my name right! You can ask me whatever you want.”
“Why are you so kind to me? I have been nothing but arrogant and rude since we first met.”
“Well, I suppose I am a kind person. My kindness does not depend on what others do or do not do.”
“Akhethetep?”
“Yes, my Lady?”
“I may be falling in love with you. Is that a problem?”
“Love is always a good thing, my Lady. Never a problem.”
“But will you also fall in love with me?”
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it? I suppose only time will tell. But I’m not going anywhere soon, and neither are you.”
“Akhethetep?”
“Yes, my Lady?”
“Can you smile under those bandages?”
“Hard to tell… but I can smile within myself. Can you do that?
“I am doing that right now, Akhethetep.”
*****
The Spot Writers—Our Members:
Val Muller: http://valmuller.com/blog/
Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/
Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/
Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/
Writing Wicket 