Nobody imagined that Aten might fall in love, but he did. Each morning he burned for the Pharaoh’s daughter as she watched the clouds. She’d never look directly at Aten, for her delicate princess’ eyes would find him uncomfortable to behold. Yet when she gazed skyward, neck craning, Aten felt himself turning to stone for want of her. Sometimes a petrified piece of him fell to Earth. Once it cooled, the people would stand it outside the palace, its tip pointing toward Aten. And each morning the princess would stand in its shadow, for she knew it had fallen for her.
So very beautiful . . .