A Revelatory Discovery

"I can't wait to see the Pyramids tomorrow!" Nesta exclaimed as they sat in the Egyptian heat, the clicking of insects punctuating their evening drink.

George liked it when she was like this. It reminded him of the girl he had fallen in love with: exuberant, wide-eyed, garrulous.

Seeing the Pyramids of Giza was a shared dream, one that symbolised their meeting over a display case of Egyptian artefacts at the British Museum forty years previously.

Forty years. He thought back through them. The last ten were littered with very little. Separate bedrooms. Bickering.

Sometimes, he felt so hemmed in by it all that he almost, almost, decided to leave. Part of him liked the security of marriage, but it felt stifling too. He'd had to subdue interests, personality traits. Sometimes, they bobbed up, like a playful seal, and he had a hankering to indulge them.

Nesta wasn't keen to do anything. This trip was a miracle.

He thought of the Pyramids. At least, they had those in common. Perhaps they would reignite their spark with their ancient magic.

He thought of how long they had stood, slowly eroding away. He was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding.

*

The morning had started fractiously after the anticipation of the night before. Neither of them had slept well; there were no croissants at breakfast; the bus was late and had a problem with the air conditioning.

But here they were at the Pyramids. Golden shrines to the dead. An ambition fulfilled.

Hot; flies everywhere; tacky souvenirs; pesky Egyptians harassing them. It was fair to say it did not meet expectations and Nesta let it be known at every available opportunity.

George was worn down before he'd even entered the pyramid.

Dehydration, they said it was. He wasn't so sure.

Narrow passageway. No air. So hot. Stooping to walk. Uneven footway. People all around. The pyramid above him. Death. Tomb. No escape.

Like his life.

It was the beginning of the end. He collapsed.

*

He came to, to Nesta's face. She had a nimbus. She looked like an irritated sun. No concern or softness there.

Before he could stop himself, he said,

"I want a divorce."

***

366 words

I have had the privilege to visit the Pyramids of Giza as well as many other Egyptian temples and tombs. I have also been inside a pyramid and a stuffier place you could never imagine. It is all of those things as George described them.

One of my most resounding memories of my visit was the Egyptian hawkers who came up to me whilst I was trying to find the Sphinx and said "English?" to which it is easier to reply "Yes" rather than get into a discussion about being Welsh, or British even. They responded with a "Tally ho!", an outdated expression linked to the leader of the hunt as a cry before blowing his horn and pursuing the beleaguered fox, and something probably only uttered by the aristocracy in general. I have never hunted and was not, and probably never will be, a member of the aristocracy and as a nineteen year old, I can remember thinking, "What a strange thing to say to me!" but laughed politely anyway. Now, it smacks of colonialism and what they knew about the British from the time when it was under British control and maybe run by a load of over-privileged toffs who liked to hunt. Who knows? I'm guessing but I'm probably right.

Anyway, once more, I am examining those pivotal moments, George deciding before it's too late to branch out on his own. I wonder if he'll live to regret it?

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