She wakes up to the scent of wild flowers; the heat; it is dark.

An arm around her waist.

She tries to turn to face him. It is not easy. His other arm encircles her and helps her turn.

“Are you cold?” he asks, peering into her face.

She shakes her head. She cannot see him clearly. He seems to be looking at her through blurred glass…broken shards catching the sunlight from the broken shafts in their hut…making her eyes hurt.

She squints.

“I’ll cover them up.”

The arm withdraws and panic grips her.


The arm is back almost instantly, holding her close, warming her beyond what her burning fever can bear.

“Biene,” he whispers.

She closes her eyes.

Fingers clasp her weak, skeletal hands; dry chapped lips touch them. She smiles.



She is gone. He can feel it in the sudden coldness of the body that was burning with fever.

Now, he begins to feel the cold. It grips him in the sunless room and makes his teeth chatter.

But he does not move. She didn’t want him to.

He feels a numbness descend into his limbs and he closes his eyes.



The villagers find them after three days when someone remembers them. It is decided to bury them the way they are discovered.

“It is not good to disturb the dead,” says the wise old woman of the village.

And that is how we found them, almost 6000 years later.

If you want to know more: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/6338751.stm

No one knows for sure what happened to this couple, this story is simply a figment of my imagination.

What do you think happened?