He could see it as if it sat before him, mounted on a tiny silver stand.“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He spoke the words, but he hadn’t wanted to say...them. It wasn’t his voice either. It was a mix of voices, all feminine.“I ... I guess?” When he responded, he heard his own voice. At least he would know who said what.“Take it.”“Am I asleep?”The voice laughed. The image of the emerald was now on top of a marble pedestal and he stood in the sideways tower in the sky. He contemplated the world below where. Sam was never in Winnie’s class. I’m taking about the chemistry that Winnie had stirred up in my loins here, she was a real looker. But beggars can’t be choosers and what with Joe’s antics over the proceeding week, my hormones were giving me some real strife. To be fair Sam was a really nice girl and, had she lived in the UK, I think it could have led to something more than the three day shagging marathon that it was. We wrote to each other for a while after I got back. There was some talk of. More

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