The Riddle of Us
Elena found the texts on Marco's iPhone at 2 AM—his phone glowing like a traitor on the nightstand, revealing conversations with someone named Sofia that made her stomach hollow out. She'd been taking those damn vitamin D supplements for three months, hoping they'd fix the fatigue that had settled into her bones like unwanted weather. Now she knew the exhaustion wasn't nutritional.
She'd spent six hundred dollars on hair treatments last month alone, trying to outrun the silver that kept creeping back at her temples. Marco used to run his fingers through it and call her his copper girl. That was before.
The next morning, she booked a flight to Egypt alone.
Something about the Sphinx called to her—that limestone creature with its lion body and woman's face, weathering millennia of stares. She needed that kind of endurance. She needed to understand how to remain yourself while the world tried to erode you into something smoother, smaller, more palatable.
She stood before the ancient monument at sunset, the Giza plateau stretching golden beneath a sky bleeding into purple. Tourists snapped photos with their phones, capturing moments they'd barely remember. Elena left her iPhone in the hotel safe.
The guide told them the Sphinx's nose had been destroyed by a Sufi Muslim outraged by idol worship, or maybe Napoleon's soldiers, or maybe time itself. No one agreed on the story. The damage remained regardless.
"What riddles did you ask?" Elena whispered to the stone, the desert wind tangling her hair, lifting the silver strands she'd stopped trying to hide.
The Sphinx didn't answer, but something in her chest loosened. Marco's texts. Sofia. The vitamins. The hair appointments. The trying and failing and trying again to be someone who could be loved enough.
She pulled out the compact mirror she'd carried since college, examined her reflection without flinching. The eyes looking back were tired but clear. The hair was a messy halo of copper and silver. The face was honest.
Back at the hotel, she turned on her iPhone. Six messages from Marco. Three missed calls. She deleted them all, then booked another week.
Some riddles don't need answers. Some damage just makes you more interesting.