Invisible Leavings

Anai’s forearms felt like lead after hours of wringing papyrus. She had to squeeze the excess water out of the raw form of the precious plant’s reeds, that were meant to be slapped together and dried into smooth sheets of writing scrolls for the scribes. She must keep up the momentum if they were to make the deadline set by the chief - as a maid of Hathor she cannot falter, for hers was a position of honor among the other girls, being the sister of the last Bride of the Nile. For the 18 years that she had lived, Anai had been groomed to be a servant of the goddess Hathor - the divine lady of music, fertility and love. She would have to serve her in whichever way the High Priestess of Memphis ordained proper, and for the next two months such honor entailed the patient act of collecting the grown papyrus reeds off the eastern banks of the Nile and wringing them out such that they were damp enough to hammer flat by the next maid in the operation line.   All the girls were dressed in

Anai knew she was going to die. The maids of Hathor, however, made sure that she was meeting Hapi today in as resplendent a form as possible. Her wisp of a dress hugged her accurately, barely concealing her chest - a sheer white shift of linen craftily cut and sewed for the occasion. Her thick gold bracelet sported a serene Anubis, flashing in the hot afternoon sun, a reminder fastened to her delicate upper arm, that she was not alone on her last journey of this life. Her eyes were smeared with the royal blue dye of Memphis, her hair subdued in an intricate weave of gold threads. The Key of Life hung heavily from a chain around her neck, where it rested precisely between her breasts. Pharaoh was seated in prime position among the priestesses and the dancers were poised for the first roll of the drums. The crowds either side of the Nile held their breath in silent prayer; their hopes as well as their sights trained on her. Only she could soothe the river god enough for a blessed f