You sat down on one of the typical benches, fidgeting on the edge of your drawing block, when you decided that you'd start by copying one of the scarabs embedded on the golden shimmering walls. Time passed on and you were eaten alive by your task, going as far as forgetting you are human. The coal stained your fingers, drafting again and again over the slightly rugged paper laying on your lap. The picture seemed more and more alive, shimmering in the dim light from the worn lamps placed in the corners of the room. Stripe for stripe you carefully placed the shadowing, making it seem even more realistic, than it was before. It could be crawling across the room if you'd place one more highlight on it's perfectly oval back. Symmetrical enough to give someone with OCD an orgasm, it was build just like it's brothers and sisters in far, far Egypt!
"Holy shit, I need to get something to drink!", you abruptly said out loud and sat up.
Refreshing water roamed your throat. Aah, it felt better than drinking it in a normal environment. The white walls of the entrance hall, the foyer, where you found a suitable drinking fountain, threw back the orange color of the sky perfectly, making you want to witness the sunset, wasn't it for your sketchbook waiting securely on the benches. It was merely 10 pm, when the sun would decide to pass their side of the equator. Normally you'd have been heading home by now, but it felt different today somehow. You were really worked up in your piece, so that you wanted to try another one and maybe even another one after that. It was as if a hazy muse came down from heaven, just to give you a piece of red string, a fate, to enjoy and get worked in completely. "Heavenly", you thought. That was supposed to be the word of the day.
Making your way back to your heavenly exhibition your footsteps became quieter in proportion, while your heart took over.
There lied your sketchbook, neatly thrown at the tucked cotton ottoman like before. Larry was nowhere to be seen, but clearly the sarcophagus had been opened. The hefty stone top had been pushed aside and gently leaned against the ancient grave.
Thinking something in between the lines of:" It's open so I can look at it, right? I'm finished with my bug, so nobody would mind me sketching a past pharaoh, right? It's not like he'll curse me, or something!", you grabbed your booklet and coal, vastly smearing pieces of coal on the edge of your declared masterpiece, dazing hypnotized at the resting place and slowly but steadily stepping closer to it, until you reached the rim of the stone coffin.
There it was! There lied the magic that had slipped you before, there was all the beauty, serenity and pride you missed so longingly before.
Memories came rushing back to you. Little (y/n) tucking on her mother's sleeve to be the first to see the mummy, running carelessly through all the other show rooms to see her precious hieroglyphs and to see what she learned about in all the books. While the other kids were scared to death by the carefully embalmed king, (y/n) never forgot about it. You chuckled, it was all so far away. Yet, there you stood able to grasp what enchanted you so much.
Practically clenching the utensils closer into your tattering palm, you began stroking the paper again, trying way too hard to hoard all the prettiness for yourself, getting worked up in the moment, so that the minutes went flying by your head.