Contemplating my fate alone- here upon the Avenue, outside the main temple complex. But neither Sphinx nor Priest could recognize my dark and shrouded form, shifting from side to side -- considering. Debating.

This is, after all, a public place. Indeed a risk for someone like me, for someone who has been in isolation, hidden, for so long-
for a criminal.

Was it mere greed that led this one time priest, Controller of the Mysteries, to a dim and filthy dung heap in Avaris? Or was it the disgusting need for revenge that boiled this blood, drove me far from the mortuary temples of Waset, to meet with conspirators? And how could I, after such a heinous crime, believe that there is one shred of hope left for my rehabilitation? Should I beg for the Amun's forgiveness? Would he not show only wrath for such misuse of the sacred Pesesh Kef - sacrilege -- to close a man's mouth?

Yes-- If the Great Amun spares my miserable life, I realize that I shall never again join my brethren in the wabet, the wtw. It has been years since I last gazed upon the royal ibu, or uttered the words but I remember them still.

A Priestess rushes by, as I turn, lost in thought. For an instant our eyes meet before I quickly recover my face. Such a wretched black visage I paint- retreating once more to a less conspicuous spot. To think I almost made it inside, to beg the forgiveness of God.