Mid Month Blues

It is the middle of February and the sky had large cottony looking clouds floating in a sea of vivid blue. This morning saw those clouds dark and threatening and spilling a bit of rain on the dry parched desert.

The weathers precariousness is causing me to delay planting my garden. My poor little seedlings are growing spindlely and pale. I really need a length of good weather. Maybe next week.

Now to my writing...I have been doing some much needed editing on The Beautiful Woman Has Come. Several people have been encouraging me to "get cracking" and finish it. I agree with them, so I am giving what I have written a hard look and plotting out the rest. Right now I have over 12k words written, a good start, but far from finished.

I thought I'd post a wee snip of the beginning...just a tickle.

The Beautiful Woman Has Come, copyright 2013 Debra Giuffrida, all rights reserved. 

A sweet scented breeze blew against my face as we walked down the main corridor of the palace of the Good God, the Aegyptos king. The air was full of the aroma of honey and burning incense and roasting meat. Servants, their arms laden with folded linen, painted amphores or baskets full of ripe fruit, passed us giving our party only cursory glances. Armed guards stood watch at doorways and the light of the sun streamed through openings high up on the walls, twinkling off their bronze spear tips. We approached a large open gathering hall filled with men and women dressed in all manner of clothing from lands far and wide, come, no doubt, to pay homage to the Aegyptos royal pair. These foreigners stood about in clusters of two or more and the stench from their bodies caused me to pause. My guardian stopped, waiting for me to continue, but leopard skin did not have such patience.

“You must not keep the Good God waiting, hurry along, child,” he said with a rap of his staff.

Now I was a child? It took all my strength to keep from shouting at this little man. Refugee or no refugee I would be treated with respect due a queen. But I dared not test my position, yet. So with set jaw and hands tight fisted I followed leopard skin but neither hurried my steps nor hung back.

At the far end of the hall sat the Good God upon a golden throne, his golden sandaled feet resting upon an equally golden stool. He wore a blue and gold helmet and held the symbols of his royal power crossed over his chest. Next to him sat a small stern looking woman with a huge black wig that dwarfed her. It hung down past her narrow shoulders and had gold beads interwoven within the braids. Upon it she wore a strange looking helmet-like crown, also made entirely of gold, with a sun disk between a pair of large upright horns. My hand absently went up to my windblown tangled locks and at that moment the Aegyptos queen looked straight at me. It was only then that I wished I could have had time to repair my appearance before being presented. Would this fellow queen see me as her equal, a young girl of 16 summers, old before her time, or would she, like leopard skin, look down her nose and treat me as the poor refugee that I truly was?