The Runaway River

This is a story from Ancient Egypt. I wrote this for a class assignment so tell me what you guys think

By the way: The hieroglyphics in the cover mean gibberish. I'm not kidding! The ? mean I don't know the translation to that:


Not kidding, that's what it means, you can look it up if you want


2. Cinictha

I nodded my head that I understood. He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. I quickly dressed into the servants clothes that Uga brought me and a cloak that my birth mother had given me, climbed out of the window, and down the hill towards the festive music and bright lights. Uga told me before I left to return before my family came back to the palace. In the meantime he would guard my door and make sure no one entered. The tailor! I thought What if he comes and I’m gone?!  But it was too late, I already left and there was no going back now. Uga would have to trap him or just distract him.

I continued for several minutes, planning out how I was to avoid being recognized. The servants clothes may help, but I needed to conceal my face. The hood of my cloak will have to work, I have nothing else, I thought. I pulled the hood over my face, and its long shadow hid my face well. Finally I reached the town square, where the festival was held. I looked around and everywhere I saw the merry faces of my father’s subjects. I saw my mother, father, and my two brothers, Asu and Kisk, were raised higher than everyone else on a balcony. There was a chair for me, but it was empty. I went the other way and ran into a stranger. My cloak’s hood was swept off, revealing my dark hair. I immediately looked down thinking it was a guard who might recognize me.

“Sorry I didn’t see you.” His voice sounded too kind to be a guard. I risked a glance up and saw it was just a kind looking, dark skinned farmer. His body was built for the hard labor of the fields. His eyes were as blue and clear as the Nile, in great contrast with his dark skin.

He looked straight into my eyes. There was an invisible connection that was instantly strung between us.

“Uh…. Hello… Sorry,” I said meekly, looking forward, only to stare into his hard chest.

“Hello,” he said in a strong but kind voice, “I’m sorry that I bumped into you, let me make it up to you. Would you like to eat? The food costs more than I can afford, but if you come to my farm, I could cook you a meal. I live in Aswan right next to the Nile; I only came to Memphis to meet the princess. It appears that she couldn’t make it,” he said looking at my empty throne. “She probably had a good reason.”

“You know I am quite hungry, I would love to eat at your farm,” I replied.

“Well, then,” he said holding his arm out, “follow me.” And idiotically, I took it.

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