Up fairly early. Refreshed and ready for the market. Breakfast and the keyboard on the well worn MacBook.
It has a few cracks, scuffs and other wearing but it works just fine. Knock on wood, but it has lasted longer than any other laptop. It goes with me most everywhere and takes a lot of physical abuse, especially on the top and keyboard. Palm and finger oils are worn in to the point they don’t clean anymore. I hope it still has more life in it. The machine is not a possession, it is an extension of myself.
Sounds like it, orndorff. Take a break. You need it more than you think. – Amorella. (The Shadow knows . . . old man.) > Late morning and you are sitting in the east parking lot of the West Side Market. You walked around the market (wearing your boot) and with cane. Sat a spell and watched the people then headed back to the car. Carol, Kim and Owen are still out there somewhere.
This is an interesting place. A little cramped and busy with people and it reminds me of a market we went to outside of Sao Paulo. In fact, it was the Sao Paulo Market, a huge roofed place with no walls. Almost all the fresh market goods for a city the size of Chicago were brought through the place. Anyway, this was a small version and does have walls. It is pretty neat though so I’m glad I came along. Lunch later in Little Italy. It was good walking exercise. This West Side market also reminded me of part of the large Ohio State Fair buildings.
Lots of people, even in the parking lots and you think about where they are coming from in their heads. Family, friends, work, and interests. Many appear older Clevelanders. Many shorter in height than their younger counterparts. When you lived here in 1961 many immigrants came to Cleveland after the Hungarian revolution. Lots of European and African genes here and a mix of many others. You like it.
Mid-afternoon. You feel better after a good nap on the floor beside Owen who is also sleeping. Carol and Kim mowed the front yard during that time which is a surprise to you because you saw it was raining just before your nap.
Obviously no Little Italy for lunch and we are having whatever they picked up at the market for supper. Perhaps another time. > You had a great supper, all fresh food. Stuffed peppers. Night is quickly taking over dusk. We will work in a bit. - Amorella.
Scene 9
The three appeared standing near the west bank of what appeared to them to be a smaller River Styx. Looking further west they saw a large temple which appeared to Panagiotakis be a built to the sun-god Amun-Re.
Takis said, “This temple appears in a replication of an area Luxor and Karnak near the Nile River. The Valley of the Pharaohs, at least some of them is further west.” While he was thinking, I do not know which is the replication, he thought, the one Here, in this Land of the Dead, or the one on Earth.
“How is the Styx so narrow here?” as if he could not think differently.
“The major Styx is on the other side of that rise a few miles. This is the minor Styx. No life within. No rain. Same blue sky with a trace of clouds. Same stars. Same moon, or so it appears.”
“I don’t understand,” said Mario.
“They created the island to the east so they would have a Nile.”
“Like we are attempting to build a bridge. I am amazed,” he replied. We know we could go out into the river but no one ever thought to build an island out there.
“The lush foliage is different from our Elysium,” noted Aeneas wondering how that can be as the Styx does not support life.
With a hardy laugh, old Takis replied, “It is easy to see an illusion that is not your own.”
“Where are the Dead?” asked Mario.
“They don’t see us. A shaman will appear soon enough. We might as well sit.”
They returned to the comfortable cross-legged sitting positions, saying little but glancing about from time to time hoping to see someone.
Amenhotep stood at the base of a thirty two foot column one of many huge columns which make up the Hypostyle Hall in Amun-Re. He stared out towards the Nile and saw three cross-legged men shining as if they had armor breast plates reflecting direct sunlight. ‘A crossing,’ he ruminated. He encouraged himself into the nonexistent air and drifted, light breeze-like to their sides, dampened himself into resolved dew and lay sprinkled like ear drops on grass blades within an arm of discovery by the shaman, Takis.
“No one is aware of our presence,” said Mario.
Takis disagreed, stating, “Mario it is you who are not aware of these Egyptian Dead who are walking about unperturbed by your non-being.”
“I feel a presence,” disclosed Aeneas, “like the time Apollo protected me from Achilles after I was wounded by Diomedes during the great Trojan War.”
“I doubt Apollo protected you, Aeneas,” suggested Takis kindly. “I think you weren’t as wounded as you thought you were. Your wits were being machined from the inner shadow of yourself, and you and fortune saved your life that day in battle.”
“Are you saying the presence I am feeling is my own machinery of mind?”
“May be, boy. I am not a fan of the Parthenon.”
“Odd, you say that,” mentioned Mario. “Mother is not a fan of the gods either.”
Takis smiled but said nothing. Reverting into a trio of silent beholders of Egyptian cultural metaphysics – willfully constructed materials that do not exist, rather than the immaterial heartsansoulsanminds that do. That is, until Takis made an quiet observation of dew in a seemingly shimmer of sunlight.
“My dear Amenhotep,” he asserted, “these two Greeks have come across a mystery and rather than explain, I decided in this case it was better to show.”
Aeneas, turned slightly and saw the dark browned skin of a hairless man of light framework wearing only a translucent-like linen loincloth which appeared to be leopard-skin. He was not even carrying sandals. “Who are you?” he blurted.
Looking solely at Takis, Amenhotep asked, “Why are you here?”
Ignoring Aeneas, he responded, “Mother says it is time.”
Amenhotep stood far from surprise and declared, “We must gather at the River.”
With that the four evaporated into soul alone and the three were transported back to the bank of the River Styx where they had begun their short journey inwardly.
***
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