Egypt, that magical place of mystery and superstition. Who could fail to be fascinated by the pyramids? Or the colourful egyptian paintings? I have a fascination for all things egyptian, so I had to base a tale there. Didn't I?

The Amulet.

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She stood there in the noonday sun

while people bustled around,

Her eyes took in the many sights,

her ears heard every sound,

For Egypt was a land of myth

she'd travelled far to see,

Now standing in the marketplace

she set her senses free.

The crowd around her seemed to shift,

a stillness hit the air,

And as if from out of nowhere

she saw her standing there,

Before her was an ancient crone

in rags, with long grey hair,

Her piercing eyes were white and blind,

locked in a vacant stare.

Before she knew quite what to do,

the crone stretched out a hand,

And siezed her wrist in bony grip

that tightened like a band,

And when she tried to pull away

she could not move her arm,

And then the crone with her free hand

dropped something in her palm.

And suddenly she was alone

back in the noonday heat,

With people pressing all around

as she stood in the street,

She thought her mind was playing tricks

brought on by this strange land,

Until she felt the cold hard weight

that rested in her hand.

She saw it was an amulet;

A carving of an eye,

The centre held a round blue stone

that winked up at the sky,

She thrust it deep within her bag

and then she turned to leave,

Soon back at her hotel, she found

she could at long last breathe.

She woke up deep within the night

not sure what was amiss,

Then saw the serpent on her chest

that gave a deadly hiss,

But by then it was much too late

to move, or even yell,

For then the spectre stole her soul

and took it straight to hell.

The next she knew when she awoke

was the oppressive gloom,

Trapped alive under tons of sand,

inside a Pharoah's tomb,

Meanwhile in a town not too far,

a crone with milky eyes

gives a tourist an amulet

that holds a deep surprise.

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