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By ARTSHARKS ARTHouse

Up he comes, climbing on me. In a lenient mood, I use my power to fade the fluorescent lighting against my flank and shoulder, camouflaging him from any watchful eyes that would be keen to stop his ascent. He clambers with the relative ease of a practiced rock-climber. In a matter of minutes he has perched himself beneath my chin, our eyes synchronized. We face the East, and the oncoming night. Being the Sphinx, chiseled to motionless as I am, I don’t really have much of a choice otherwise.

“What walks on four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three at night,” he murmurs after a stretch of silence. I can feel his pulse hammering wherever his limbs touch the stones. “Is it still the same, after all these years? You haven’t come up with anything new? No challenges? No new ways of killing people?” When I don’t respond, he breathes out a sigh, and leans back. Beyond the three pyramids, one of the seven wonders of the world, the lights of Cairo glitter like jewels scattered in the sand.

“Why would you need a new way, when the old ways are still so effective?” he continues presently. He bows his head between his knees and clutches those Alexandrian curls until his knuckles whiten. The proximity of his flesh against my limestone provides me with a channel of connection, intensified by my years of experience. Whatever I cannot see—whatever even he cannot see—I can sense.

His name is Eddie. Eddie Alexandrakis Almujahed. He is about to jump off my shoulder, Egypt’s oldest bungee jumper.

“Angreek87″