Another Days Work: Part 6

The Greeks

Just as we were about to break, Ptuto raised his hand.

Shiah saw this and nodded.

“Did he sign the letter?”

It was a great question. No one was legally allowed to print the Pharaoh’s name without him knowing about it.

Shiah hesitated for a moment. It was telling.

“I mean…. yes? Sure?”

This sent everyone into a state of disbelief. The workers were getting louder.

Shiah put an end to it. “Silence!! Hear me when I say this! Pharaoh himself handed me this copy AND said it was an EXACT copy of the one he gave his priest! When have I ever lied to you!?”

It was true. She’d always been very truthful and told us what was going on in the highest parts of the palace. Important given we would all most likely die in service to these pyramids. Or, as Ptomeses called them, “unnecessary gravesites for the rich.” I suspected he was sold off for a reason unlike myself. Maybe to avoid Pharaohs judgment? There were rumors.

“Should I just keep any further news to myself!?”

No one was able to answer. Disappointing Shaia was like disappointing the sky goddess Nut or worse, your mom. It was terrible.

“All right then! Let’s get to work!”

We went to Ptuto for our daily assignments. There was dissent in the air. I got the feeling some didn’t believe Shiah and maybe thought Ptuto’s question was agreed upon before the meeting. Actually, that second part was me. Best not to share that, I don’t even know why I thought it.

I blame the Greeks.

Nothing good happened whenever they were mentioned. My parents had once invited a merchant over for dinner.

He knew a man who knew a man who’d been to Memphis and had seen multiple pictures drawn on large pieces of papyrus of Greeks.

They were always laying down and eating grapes. They were fat too. No surprise there. If you’re just eating grapes all day.

What were grapes anyway? The man called them that, I just pictured whole cooked animals like rats. And laying down!?

Who lays down without sleeping?

Greeks.

I had no reason to believe these pictures weren’t true.

I almost bumped into the man ahead of me when he stopped.

I’m taller than most so I could see why he stopped.

One of Ptuto’s bodyguards drew a dagger and put his massive body in front of him. Ptuto held onto him trembling as they both looked at something in the sand.

Another Days Work: Part 5

Letters to the dead

“Our Pharaoh has assured us that he will do everything he can to keep us safe. I myself saw him write a letter to his father, who as you all know rests in the field of reeds at its highest point!”

Ptomeses groaned and shook his head. He didn’t like this Pharaoh or his father. He thought they threw too many feasts for too many visiting dignitaries and worse, philosopher’s.

Shiah noticed this but she ignored it like usual.

She raised her hand. She held a folded papyrus.

“Here is a copy of the letter.”

Shiah opened it up. This really was serious.

“Father, I beg you to keep Egypt safe from those who would harm us. Bring forth an army of snakes and lions to guard our shores.”

She folded the letter back up.

We all just kind of looked at each other.

It seemed anticlimactic. A little bit short. I wondered if he really meant it.

There were rumors that the Pharaoh had taken many trips to Greece and had hundreds of lovers and political ties there.

I didn’t believe them but I did see his caravan leaving his palace many many times.

You don’t bring a caravan if you’re just going somewhere half a days walk away.

This was going to be a very long day.

Another days work: part 4

Shiah

Shiah took a deep breath in, her eyes closed, chin up to the sun god, then she exhaled, her chin down to to the god of the underworld, set.

This couldn’t have been good.

“There is talk from the north. The kingdom of Greece. There is talk of expansion.”

We all knew what that meant.

A change in management and worse, ideas.

Shiah herself knew better than anyone. The kingdom of Kush was constantly being attacked by older Kingdoms from the west and south.

There was this new idea of expansion.

It used to be a kingdom would send an army, conquer, take anything they wanted and went back home.

Now, it seemed like kingdoms wanted to own everything and everyone.

I didn’t really get it.

Why would anyone want that?

You wake up, you bless the Gods, and you work.

More importantly, you live that day, put in a hard days work for your family and love who you love in your heart.

Shiah spoke again.

Another days work: part 3

Once again, I didn’t get to the fountain quick enough. There were already 6 men in front of me, drinking their morning water.

We got four bowls each.

It was enough at the time but given what we knew was in store for the day, it was never enough.

By first break, we’d all be painfully parched.

I looked at the sky and Ra was going to be ever present today.

The sun God was usually there but at this time of the cycle it was especially hot and dry.

There was constant talk before sleep of the water source and how for all we knew, it was much more plentiful than anyone in power made it out to be.

Ptomeses claimed that it was a mountain of water on an endless flow. Limitless.

But, he hated Ptuto for whatever reason. In his stories, Ptuto was the one hiding the limitless source of water.

I think it was because of his assistant, Shiah. A beautiful woman from the kingdom of Kush.

Ptomeses was obsessed with her. Her dark skin, her wit, her power over Ptuto was irresistible to Him.

He always wanted things he couldn’t get. His father was the same. He had two camels. Milk to sell from the female and a strong procreation possibility from the male mating with her.

It wasn’t enough though. He took his earnings and invested in things like, the sale of imported goods from other shores. More importantly, sailors who talked about imported goods from other shores. Things he’d only heard about in taverns.

My parents were different. They were happy with food on the table at least once a day, two if we were lucky.

I finally made my way to the fountain. The water was sweet as I drank it.

I headed over to the breakfast area. It was a handful of figs, a piece of wheat bread and a cup of camels milk.

What a treat!

To be fair, I had just only started working on the site when Ptuto was in charge.

I’d heard that conditions weren’t so good in the recent past.

Shiah clapped her hands.

We all stopped what we were doing and paid close attention.

Another days work: part 2

I saw Ptuto leading multiple women with jugs of water to the fountain.

He was my boss and always claimed to be awake before us.

We all thought he was exaggerating, talking about his lack of sleep because he’d go to the wells while “we were dreaming” but at least today, he wasn’t.

The women poured their water into the fountain.

I suddenly became very thirsty.

I had to ignore this because I wasn’t permitted to drink or even be awake before the appropriate time.

I headed back to my sleeping quarters.

All the fires were lit now.

I could easily make my way back to my sleeping quarters.

It wasn’t hard to find. I just listened to Ptomeses snoring.

When it became unbearable, I knew I was there.

Just as I lay down, I heard the morning wake up call from Ptuto.

“Get up! Time to meet Ra and see another day!”

I always thought Ptuto was great.

He was a former slaver turned job site manager due to the fact that he was caught letting his slaves go free by the Pharaoh’s men.

The truth is he’d never really believed in the slave culture and had subsequently fallen in love with a slave.

The rumor was that his lover was a male slave and he’d professed his love and lived on some sort of commune.

Everyone was equal and they were some kind of family.

Not unheard of but unlikely nonetheless.

I made my way to the fountain.

Another days work, on the first great pyramid.

I woke up in darkness.

No one had lit the morning fires.

That was unusual so I stayed in my sleeping quarters for a moment.

I could hear snoring.

It was like a blade sharpening on a stone wheel.

Ptomeses. He’d broken his nose moons ago when we were kids. It had never healed right. It made sense. The people in our village couldn’t afford a priest. A priest would’ve fixed it.

Not that we were poor. We had a few Ox. Two village huts for gathering and worship.

I’d woken up before I should’ve. That had been happening lately.

Best to just try and go back to sleep.

Except, I had to pee. I knew I shouldn’t have had that extra sip of water before bed. But I did. And here I was.

I cursed myself for not trying harder to get a sleep space closer to the entrance. I would’ve but there were old men in there 30’s! I wasn’t exactly young but at 20 I just couldn’t justify it.

Oh well. I could just close my eyes and go back to sleep. Once the first morning fire was lit, I could just run out and pee. No problem.

I listened to Ptomes snoring. It had a rhythm.

Like the performers on holy days.

I closed my eyes and timed my breathing with the rhythm of the snoring.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard the commotion of sticks rubbing together.

It was morning.

A fire ahead lit up.

It illuminated the middle aisle in our cave.

I sat up as they moved closer to me, starting the process of lighting the next of many fires.

It was enough light for me to make a bee line outside to pee.

I did.

When I got outside, I could see the dim brilliance of Ra. The sun God. He had granted us another day. And more importantly, light for me to run to the ditches we could pee in.

I ran, and released. Good thing. If I had gone in my sleeping quarters, I would have had to clean it.

That could take some time. Time when I was supposed to be working for our Pharaoh.

Could’ve really affected my wages.

I needed all my wages to buy food for my sister and her son.

They depended on it.

I was about to head back to the cave when I saw the most beautiful sight.

Ra, the Sun god had risen from his slumber. He shined a soft light on the side of our building site.

The architect had said that would happen and that it was a sign of good fortune yet none of us had actually seen it.

It was amazing! Real! Maybe what we had sold ourselves into was worth it!

We weren’t encouraged to talk to each other about such things but I couldn’t wait to spread the word.

The pyramid we were building would in fact bring freedom and good faith to our families.

The progress of women in the recent past from the pov of an almost “older” woman

I grew up in a passively sexist society.

The 1980’s.

This time warranted the song “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper.

I can relate.

I washed dishes while my brother, the same age, was left to his own devices with his transformers and his castle grey skull.

My She-Ra and little ponies would breach that castle eventually but that’s beside the point.

I think I read that Cyndi wrote this song about being a child and having to do chores while other kids, boys, played and were given the clear message to follow their dreams. Do what feels good to you. Nothing to do with duty. Test your limits.

While girls were given fear, and limitations.

I experienced teachers not only NOT calling on me in class but actually rolling their eyes when I raised my hand.

It got so bad that around grade 3, I stopped raising my hand even though I knew the answer for fear of this humiliation.

I dropped that fear silently in grade 4, and did my best on a science test.

I got an A+.

It had been a year since I’d scored so high and I was so incredibly was proud of myself.

I told a friend, quietly. Not quietly enough apparently because I heard whisper’s saying “she’s showing off”.

I was horrified and never talked about a good grade again.

Actually, I lost the want to even get a good grade.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!

I became invisible until I grew breasts.

Then, I couldn’t stay invisible no matter how much I tried.

I had attention.

I started wearing makeup at that point. It was junior high. I was 12.

I remember a boy stopping me in the hallway and telling me I looked like a “porcelain doll”.

I was so flattered.

My self worth went from a 2 to 11. If I wasn’t going to be valued for my mind, I might as well be valued for my looks.

It didn’t get better from there.

I spent the rest of my teenage years overlooking my personal feelings of worth in favor of a negative idea of who I should be.

I should look like a manikin. Like a porcelain doll.

Let’s face it, 90’s fashion definitely supported this idea.

Babydoll dresses anyone?

There were definite extenuating circumstances in play so I can’t blame society completely for this, but it didn’t help.

Today, 2022, I see younger women in there 20’s & 30’s and I’m so impressed!

They don’t seem to have the same shame instincts that I had.

The same obligatory hesitation for anything.

I’m so happy about that.

Because we’ve come a long way baby! (The slogan for Virginia Slims cigarettes back in the day)

This past week I’ve seen two incredible doctors, both young woman, who just impressed the shit out of me.

Over the past 10 years I’ve met so many young women that also have impressed the shit out of me.

I’m so excited to see what they do.

I’m excited to take inspiration from them and see what I can do.

That’s all.

Sexual Vs Sensual: Part 2

She was in the elevator….. she regretted her decision immediately.

He wanted sex.

She couldn’t give him that.

He might just take it.

It would be be understandable if he just took it.

She hadn’t thought this thorough.

She braced herself for anything. If anything, she’d have empty sex and it would last till the next train.

She’d leave her body. In terror.

But she would come back. At least a part of her would come back.

The part that felt nothing. The part dissociated with the deepest part of herself.

She reached his floor.

The elevator opened.

Part of herself had already left the building.

There she was, at his door.

She knocked.

Nothing.

She knocked again.

The door opened.

His eyes were kind. And deep.

Maybe he was like she thought. It would be rare.

She remembered her last boyfriend. He held a knife to her throat.

“I didn’t think you’d come”.

Her subconsciousness took on a life of its own.

“Is this okay?”

He opened the door wide.

“Of course. Come in.”

She did.

It was a suite. He had money. Or someone did and was paying for it.

“Are you hungry?”

He seemed sincere. She didn’t have a concrete reason not to trust him. If there was doubt it was her, not him.

She dropped her bag on the loveseat and turned to face him.

He smiled.

She was disarmed.

“I’m good. Unless you were going to order food…”

He sat down on the loveseat.

“Nah, I’m good. I was hoping you’d come.”

There was a desk with a chair toward the back of the room.

“Remember what we talked about?”

She walked over to the desk and moved the chair backwards and sat down.

“Yes. It’s interesting. I’ve never thought about that before.”

She gripped the middle of the chair with her hands and widened her legs.

“What do you think?” she asked

“It’s up to you.” he said

She got up and stood in front of him.

He turned to face her.

“Put your hands back.”

He extended his hands on the back of the loveseat, palms out.

She took her shirt off to reveal a black lace bra.

“I can’t have sex with you. But I think I can pleasure you.”

She unbuttoned her jeans.

“Remember what I said. I can leave my body at anytime.”

“I remember.”

He was relaxed as she slipped out of her jeans.

.

.

Sensual vs Sexual: a narrative story Part 1

She took her time walking through midtown. It was already 1:30 AM. The last train had left the station at 1:15.

She’d been working at the club.

She’d made a connection with a customer and gotten lost in his eyes.

Normally she’d give herself a good amount of time to transform into her everyday self.

No makeup, jeans, t shirt.

This time, she didn’t.

She felt the two versions of herself as one. She’d leave as her hyper sexual alter ego.

The one that turned her back on the customers and danced provocatively for herself.

There was a mirrored wall on the back of the stage.

She’d never found herself more beautiful. Or sensual.

She’d move her hips to the music. Run her hands up and down her torso, and when the time was right, unclasp her bra.

At that point, she’d turn around and let the men admire her.

She loved it.

That was huge since she hadn’t ever had consensual sex without a debilitating flashback that rendered her a small terrified child.

Just when it was getting good.

She got to grand central and considered sitting on the ground outside the main entrance till the trains started running at 5:30. She’d done it before.

It was cold. She wasn’t completely prepared for it.

She reached into her coat pocket and found a slip of paper.

Hyatt Grand Central Rm 206.

She remembered his eyes.

Kind. Deep.

“If you want, come and see me. We’ll talk.”

That’s what he’d said at the end of the lap dance she’d given him.

They’d talked for a good hour at the bar before that.

More than what she should’ve according to her employer and bartenders.

There was just something about him.

Like he saw her.

Really saw her.

She made a decision….

Part 2 coming soon…

Hot Flash

As a woman I’ve often heard about hot flashes.

These are things that happen to older women and they’re often met with an eye roll.

Like they’re not really happening and should just be shrugged off.

I admit, as a young woman, whenever an older woman complained about a hot flash, I thought she was over exaggerating.

This is the product of women diminished.

Especially women over 40.

I, 46, have been experiencing hot flashes lately.

They’re nothing like I thought. It’s physical not mental. Guess what, I can think and function during a hot flash. I can even make informed decisions.

You’re hot if you’re in a full tuxedo in July, in New York, upstate, in a tent, for so many hours.

The heat is from the outside in. It can be changed by the temperature changing.

A hot flash, is opposite.

It’s like your bones are radiators and the heat is coming from within. I’ve never been so uncomfortable.

I just hope,going forward that my co workers are sensitive to this.

Not that I was ever sensitive to the ones before me.

It’s just not a thing, but I hope it can be.

At the moment,anyone that thinks it’s not, will have to deal with my very reasonable wrath.

Just trying to live my best life. Just trying.

Seriously, I’m sorry for all the women that came before me, going through menopause and I didn’t understand.

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