There it stood, the great sphinx of Egypt, towering above me now like a skyscraper made from piles of dust that have stood the tortures of time. How the ancient Egyptians built a colossal structure with no modern technology, we may never know but as the sun flickered behind her head, it’s no wonder that the sphinx is a highly feared creature of ancient times.
     From my point of view, the sphinx can gaze upon anyone who comes near before opening her jaw to demand an answer to a riddle. When the cat-like beast asks for an answer, an answer shall be given or all the many stars in the sky shall reign down on the riddlee.
     That’s what I imagine would happen if someone met the giant in front of me. Imagine the conversation. "How’s the weather up there? Did you see when Rome fell? You’ve got a bit of sand in your eye." How does a person converse with a sphinx that could crush a tank the way I would squish ants? After all, those paws caused earthquakes when pressed too heavily into the earth; she created tornados when her tail was whipped through the air and her wings could create dust clouds large enough to cover the pyramids themselves. If a person had the sphinx on their side, there would be no stopping them; surely it would like having a god on your side when fighting mice.
     Does her head touch the heavens? What would happen if lightning stuck her? I reckon that the spirit of the sphinx would finally be released, and the whole statue would take a breath. Released into the world rather then being cooped up inside a cage, pacing and waiting for something to open the door to let her out. Freeing the spirit of the sphinx might be like releasing the tabby cat so it can finally run around or releasing the tiger that was captured and is seeking revenge. But she can’t hurt anyone; she’s just a spirit after all, well, technically she’s a mythological creature made of stone.
     Stepping closer to the figure, I realise there are gaps in the stonework just big enough to squeeze a small person and they could be inside the sphinx. Not that anyone would want to be inside a giant, stone cat, but say if I did squeeze through…what would happen to me? Would there be some ancient Egyptian test where my soul gets measured against my heart or would I merely get some answers to some archaeological questions?
     Even as a toddler, there has always been a pull towards this fantastical creature even as a toddler. When I was small, I thought that the grass got trampled or changed colour because of a beast landing on it. A beast with wings, paws, and a tail. Why would little toddler me think that a sphinx had landed in the garden unless it was an overactive imagination concurred by too much sugar or something really was there? Most of my childhood drawings are of large tabby cats with wings and human faces but I’d never seen a picture or even a drawing of a sphinx.
     Proud and firm stands the sphinx on the same earth it’s made from, which in turn is just as tough and won't be moved unless it wants to. If there answers through that little hole as to why I'm drawn to her, then my heart tells me I have to find them. If I am to find them, there’s only one thing I can do: scramble into the unknown.