Short Story
The Coupland Project:Icaurus in Egypt
By Vanessa Long

Icarus approaches the Great Pyramid of Giza with his sister and parents trailing behind him. He climbs the uneven stone blocks of the pyramid clumsily, one after the other. Icarus turns back every few feet to see that his family are still with him. Each time he has to shade his eyes against the glare of all that bright white sand in the sunlight. They slowly move up the stone pyramid. Higher, higher.

They make it to a doorway. Below the sign that says NO SMOKING INSIDE THE PYRAMID in English then Arabic, a row of men stand patiently. Pyramid guides. A man in a white turban, gray smock and tan under smock approaches Icarus and his family. He puts out his hand. Icarus� father flicks through his wallet, eventually producing some money. It disappears into the guides hand. He walks through the doorway, and then gestures for Icarus to follow.

The man guides the family through dim, uneven stone hallways with white walls. Icarus is right behind him as they reach a sharp incline. A varnished wooden handrail and thin slats in the ground are the only things to help them up. The guide strides ahead. Icarus has a more difficult time of it. His small feet do not move up the incline easily. The guide keeps stopping to take deep, irritated breaths. Icarus does not know how he can wear two layers of clothing and breathe so deeply amidst the dank heat and smell of age and incense that constitutes this tunnel.

Eventually Icarus and family make it to the top of the incline. They walk into an empty holding room. The guide waves past Icarus. He speaks in Arabic as he holds out his hand. Icarus� parents grumble for some moments before they hand over more money.

The guide then leads Icarus up another walkway, this one steeper than the last. The air here seems thinner again and hot. Icarus finds it even more difficult to make this climb. Icarus� sister shoves him forward. He recoils back into her with irritation. He then trudges on before the guide turns towards him and puts out his hand. The guide smiles a toothless grin against the darkness. It is a helping hand that he extends. Icarus takes it. He can feel age and dirt and experience and wrinkles on that heavily textured hands. It delivers him to the top of the tunnel.

Icarus finds himself in a small room. It is stifling. It seems like there is no air in it at all. The perimeter of the room is lined with tourists. In the middle of the room there is a tall rectangular structure made of stone. It has no lid on it. Icarus asks his mother what is in it. She sniggers and says �Nothing dear. Don�t you remember seeing the mummy that was in it in the museum in the city? It was only yesterday.�

Icarus frowns and moves towards the stone box. He rests his hands on its edges which are as tall as he is. Icarus uses his arms to lift himself up. He feels the adults that line the walls grumbling, mumbling �Should he be doing that?� in ten different accents. Icarus hovers there for a moment, then closes his eyes. He leans forward, opens his mouth and breathes in the void.

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