Dr. Tanya Jacobs peered through the dusty glass of the display case, her breath catching as she took in the ancient tablet before her.
The script etched into its surface was unlike any she had ever encountered. As a renowned linguist and cryptographer, Tanya had deciphered countless languages and scripts, but this one defied all her expertise.
The tablet had been discovered in the remote highlands of Peru, among the ruins of a forgotten civilization.
It was delivered to Tanya's lab at the university with a note from the expedition leader: "This is beyond our understanding. We hope you can unlock its secrets."
About the Creator
Robbie Bale
Read my content and tip if you can.
Keep reading
More stories from Robbie Bale and writers in Poets and other communities.
see you soon (5)
We went from two peas in a pod to being complete strangers. I wonder how he is doing nowadays. Hopefully he and his mom are doing fine. I wish nothing but the best is going on in his life. Obviously years have gone by and I’ve made more best friends. But Jamie was one of my first. Those early childhood attachments really stick with me. All of it is just memories to me now. Wish we could go back. I could think about it everyday or not think about it for years. But it will always be a part of me.
By Robbie Bale8 months ago in Poets
making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar2 days ago in Feast
Comments
Robbie Bale is not accepting comments at the moment
Want to show your support? Become a pledged subscriber or send them a one-off tip.