Amgyptapan

Chapter 19: Chosen

John Feig was a man of Jewish heritage. He was about five feet and six inches in height. He had a full beard and long, curly hair the shade of a raven's plumes. His eyes were shining topazs in his sockets.

His nose was gnarled. His ears could be compared to a lion's in his mane. His teeth could belong to a pirate. His face was deformed by numerous blemishes of the painful and bursting variety.

His neck was lanky on his shoulders which could hardly support the weight of his head. His arms and legs were twigs compared to an athlete's. His hands and feet were paws against their joining limbs. His torso was similar to his neck.

He wore thick glasses, a plaid short-sleeved shirt, long tan pants and nurse tennis shoes. This outfit was numerous in John Feig's closet. He had been raised to wear only this type of clothing. This parental teaching had carried into his late twenties.

His father was a strict rabbi. His mother was a successful accountant. John was the third son of four sons and one daughter. John, much to his parent's disappointment and disapproval, had been arrested on false charges the year before.

Though the charges had been expunged, John's parents had refused to associate with him. His parent's rejection caused John to gradually fall into clinical depression. He had been in the hospital three times in the past six months for failed suicide attempts. Each time, a neighbor had called it in.

He had been prescribed multiple antidepressants. None of the medicinal drugs could change what John felt. His family wanted nothing to do with him. For that very reason, John Feig wouldn't stop trying to end his life.

Currently, John Feig was walking down a street in Cairo with his hands in his pockets. Though it was a gorgeous day, for Egypt that is, John didn't feel all too excited. His reason for being in Cairo was that the company he worked for had thought he needed a vacation. Being forced to take a vacation didn't do anything to eradicate his condition.

The only thought on John's mind was finding ways to kill himself. As he looked around him, he began to visualize how the objects around him could be used to commit suicide. Multiple ideas started to pop into his head. As John was so lost on his thoughts, he didn't see the man in time.

A surprised yell came from both males. John had landed on his bottom across from the man he had just bumped into. John noticed that the man only wore what looked like a tunic around his waist. He also noticed that the man looked to be a living replica of an Ancient Egyptian.

"I am so sorry!" John apologized.

The other only glared at him. Stunned, John thought that maybe the other didn't speak English. He repeated his apology in Arabic. To his surprise, the other began speaking, possibly lecturing, in a dialect unknown to him.

Doubting it would work, John tried speaking in a tongue his father had taught him, "{Do you understand Hebrew?}"

Recognition sparked in the other's eyes as he replied, "{Why, yes, I do.}"

John, relieved to have found a language he could talk to the man in, responded, "{I am so sorry for bumping into you like that. I was not watching where I was going.}"

The other softly smiled and replied in a joking manner, "{It would not be very reasonable to bear a grudge against an apology, now, would it? My name is Nothile.}"

John laughed and answered, "{No, it would not be very reasonable. A pleasure to meet you, Nothile. I am John Feig.}"

"{You bear an interesting name, John Feig.}" Nothile complimented.