I can only just remember standing, gazing, breathing down the nape of the neck of the Nile. Immense water pivoted downstream, carrying the reflection of my eyes and the heat of the sun upon the surface. Reeds shattered the waters surface in hues of yellows, like fire upon smooth stone. Grains of sand burrowed themselves deep into my palm, nearly invisible but harsh to the touch. Sand glittered underneath a deep crimson dawn that eclipsed over the far away horizon. A new day was burning.
Breaking through seas of crystalline, fine white dirt towered a kingdom, hidden in shadows at the deep darkness of noon. This was a kingdom unparalleled, the mother of all cities, the father of all societies. Bathed in stone, birthed under the ever watchful sun, she sought to bring forwards revolution before the word had been spoken.
In my palm, I held a single perfectly carved limestone shard, so finite that the pressure of my grip crumbled it to old dust. This kingdom was dead.
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