It is strange to relate and seems incredible though it will have its detractors. A moon shone with an inquisitive glow over a ghastly stretch of wasteland on a corner of a small city in England. As is usually the way of these things only I was on that fog strewn moor to witness the most bizarre occurrences. A large number of furious, tiny, living hieroglyphs were running across the moor in pursuit of a shabbily dressed Pharaoh.
Knowing this part of the city well I was aware there were no pyramids or oceans of sand in this area.The Pharaoh was desperate and looked pleadingly at me but what could I do?
Each hieroglyph was well armed and every countenance bore an expression of frustrated malice.
As they closed their distance all fell upon the Pharaoh and beat the living daylights out of him. I was alarmed as I spoke no Egyptian and was powerless to intervene.
Having satisfied their bloodlust they returned in the same direction they had come from and not one pair of eyes met my astonished gaze.
Tentatively I made my way to the Pharaoh and his expression was one of great distress. I could not understand one word as he expired holding my hand to the last utterance.
Unable to report to the police for fear of being sent to the madhouse I lifted the Pharaoh up in my arms and walked across the moors.
Leaving his body outside an Anglican Church I immediately set off on foot back across the moors.
To this day I do not know why the Pharaoh met a bad end in a city nowhere near Egypt or if the hieroglyphs ever found it back to a pyramid. Not knowing any Egyptian this is all I can relate.
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Weird Reads
PoesiaPoems & Prose to read when your coffee is on the brew. A mixture of the light and dark in life. Strange writing from the pen of a weird mind. Caution advised before reading.
