Lonely

Three thousand years is a long time to be stuck inside a box, however pretty and expensive. Stuck between this world and the next, it gets rather dark and boring in here. Add these bandages and the temperature in here could become a killer, if I wasn’t already dead. What’s the point of the perfect preservation of body, when I can’t even look in a mirror.

So I had to crack open the Shell, quite like a chick out of an egg, and take a walk outside. If you meet me on the way, please ignore the bandages–they weren’t my idea of fun. I was just lying there, waiting to be buried, but these guys decided that I deserved an eternity…of loneliness.

I wish I wasn’t a king.