It has been six moons since I began work.
I have become a robot. I am efficient. I work well.
I arrive.
I clean.
I cook.
I care.
I depart.
This has become my life.
I am to be married soon to a man in my village. He has no money or property but my father has agreed to allow us to stay in his house until we find a place to live. He works every day from dawn till dusk at the pyramids making bricks and hauling them up to be cemented into to a monument for Pharoah.
It makes me feel ill.
The monotony of it all.
There is nothing new in life. There is no hope left. There is nothing to look forward to. I cannot even be excited to be married.
My work has eaten the life from within me.
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