Ancient Egyptians believed a person's ka, one of several souls they thought everyone had, would transcend death and reach the blessed Underworld. Modern man has not made that journey easy. Written 1998, probably to shame my present self with my past moodiness.
She traveled aimlessly but the same time hurriedly. She had no time to waste; she was impelled to move quickly. The glorious light of the sun god burst upon her in a great blaze, and she knew she had reached her goal.
She flew swiftly toward her destiny -- and pulled away in indignation. Why, she's nothing but a commoner! Her cry was painfully incensed, yet silent. Her rage cooled with the speed it had burned. She needed this... this worker and that was all. There was nothing else, not for her. She summoned her courage and plunged.
Inside the body, she saw the most curious shapes. These people of this other age did not walk! They stepped into metal shapes that carries them places. How barbaric! All truly civilized people walked everywhere. That way, they did not injure themselves inside chariots. When the body read of a crash, it was saddened. She was secretly delighted at the proof of her ways.
Reading, now, that was another thing. Such ugly shapes! They repelled her violently, for they were the shapes the alien conquerors had used. They had no beauty, no finesse. All that open space showed how artistic these people were not.
Then came a dark event indeed, one ridden with the evil of the desert. The body found a dead cat, frozen in the icy outdoors. It felt sad, but its sorrow could not rival hers. These hideous heathens! They would let a goddess die, in the oppressive evil outside the human shelters? How dare they! If they were not so evil, she reasoned, the sun god would reward them with more light and free them from this demon, the kind who rode the desert breeze at night.
No one mourned the goddess. The body was sad, but did nothing. She railed against it, but nothing happened. For the first time she realized how truly godless this tribe was. They gave no shelter to a goddess, so their river god would give them no peace. Their Hep-ur, or sweet water, was solid and could not be used. It was cold like the desert, the jackal's realm, when the sun god has died. No green things grew, no mighty birds flew high above.
She was sickened. This tribe had become impossibly grotesque. What could she do to save herself? She carefully extracted herself from the body and fled. But she made one last hideous discovery.
No stairwells to heaven adorned the landscape, not even her won. She needed a stairway, or she would roam forever -- here! She frantically searched to no avail.
Nothing remains. Not one person lives according to truth anymore. And in straying from the path, humanity has brought destruction upon itself, along with one innocent time-lost soul. We are they who doomed the wandering ka, Egyptian spirit. We have forgotten the wisdom of her civilization, a better culture than ours. She has no escape.
You do know what happens to bad kas, don't you? A monster called the Devourer chews them forever... and we have not followed the truth.
We are bad souls... so prepare for your AfterDeath.