20 Sep A Short Story: Land Of The Found.

*This story is entirely a work of fiction.*

(Novel writing practice)

“Are you sure this is the right place?” I said to her as I took a sip of water from my canteen. She looked around for a few moments and then said, “Yeah, I’m fairly certain.”

The sand dunes, beige in color, shifted quickly amidst the forceful carving of the wind. Oddly enough, the pyramid’s hue palette was different than previously recognized. I passed her the canteen, which was capable of holding a few gallons of water, yet was lighter than a feather even though it was voluminously full. She took a few sips and then I said, “How come no one has seen this pyramid before then?”

She looked up directly into the sun for an extended period of time, the hazel-like colors of her eyes intensified with each staring second that passed, I’ve never seen anything quite that extraordinary. The wildfire of her eyes then looked over at the pyramid and she said, “Maybe they didn’t know where to look…”

20-foot cathedral-style wooden doors, ones that you would most likely see during medieval architecture, rather than find in Middle-Eastern poise, guarded the entrance to the pyramid.   

There was no lock, no handle, and no observed way to open the doors, only an engraved collection of sentences, with each letter in a different language.

She gently placed her hand on the door and the sky turned to the evening and the lettering illuminated. She looked over at me with sincerity in her eyes and said, “Do you know what it says? Can you read it?”

Each letter had a different gradient and intensity level of light, most people probably wouldn’t be able to notice the subtle difference, but I could. I took a few steps back so I could see the bigger picture and then I confidently said to her, “I could read it, but I think the way it was written, it wasn’t meant to be articulated… it was meant to be pronounced. I think some people call this type of writing an adlib.”

She looked back at me and spoke softly yet loud enough for me to hear, “So… it’s like humming?”

I started to walk towards her while saying, “No. Humming is completely different, that’s a completely different type of language. This specifically, an adlib, is the conversion of light into sound.”

She smiled a lovely type of smile and then said, “Well let’s hear it!”

I walked up behind her, placed my hands on her hips and said, “Keep your hand on the door and close your eyes.” Then I whispered the adlib in her left ear and the door began to open without making a sound.