Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Beginnings by William Meisheid (chrysanthemum read aloud txt) 📖
- Author: William Meisheid
Book online «Beginnings by William Meisheid (chrysanthemum read aloud txt) 📖». Author William Meisheid
“You called, my princess?”
“Yes, Nari. I know it is still dark, but I want to bathe in the Nile at first light.”
Debating whether to confide in her servant concerning the night’s events, even though the woman had watched over her since she was born, Asati paused, and then said simply, “I had an omen during the night. Now that the inundation is about to begin, I want to present offerings to Hapi and receive the anointing of the sacred waters. Then I will investigate the omen’s meaning with the priests. Begin preparing what is needed.”
“We shall be ready before Ra’s barge breaks the horizon.”
Turning from the retreating servant, Asati went to the alcove, which held the altar and statue of Satis. The sacred lamp was kept burning as an ongoing tribute to her patron. It illuminated a small figure wearing a horned white crown, the reservoir of the seed of life and protectress of the yearly inundation.
Looking at the statue, Asati gave voice to her concern.
“Oh Mistress of Heaven, did you send these visions?”
There was no answer. The blank eyes and fixed mouth of the goddess showed Asati no response, no concern. An old doubt, one that had grown stronger since the last inundation, edged its way into her thoughts: had the gods abandoned her? Or, were the gods dead, as some who still followed the heresy of the forgotten Pharaoh whispered? Were they only a memory, kept alive by the ministrations of the priests?
With cold determination, she quenched those thoughts. She poured a libation to her mistress into the waiting bowl and using the flame from the lamp lit a small lump of incense. Then, kneeling on the hard tile, Asati began her morning prayers with more fervor than she had felt in some time. She dared not lose the fragile hope that the night visions had offered.
ImprintPublication Date: 03-15-2010
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
Full book available on Amazon.
Comments (0)