Rarity.
He stopped digging for a few moments, listening for the sound he knew was supposed to be there.
Nothing.
Sighing, he lifted his shovel once again. Four hours later, he stopped abruptly as he felt a hard metal surface under the shovel blade.
Digging with renewed enthusiasm, he moved another two feet of sandy soil before triumphantly uncovering his treasure. He reached down into the chasm he'd created, opened the rotted wood and metal trunk and gently picked out the silver engraved goblet, lying in pristine condition amid overflowing jewels of every brilliant color and bright coins both silver and gold.
Ignoring everything except the silver cup, he stood tall, glanced quickly around in the darkness, listened carefully once again, and silently left.
The journey home took several hours, but it seemed only a few moments because of the tumult of his excited thoughts. Finally, the cup was his and his alone. Back where it belonged. It should never have been taken from his family.
No matter, it was home. Only his family understood what a special vessel it was. Only he understood what the cup had meant to his family. For a moment, sadness overtook him as he realized he was the last of his line. No one else would know the joy of possessing this as a family heirloom. No one else was alive to share his joy and happiness at retrieving what had been lost for decades.
He looked up at the dim light in the trees. Home. There it was. Hugging his treasure, he whispered out loud. "We're home."
In the kitchen now, with the fire crackling cheerfully, and water almost to the boil in the teapot, he worked carefully to prepare the special tea mixture that his family was known and revered for.
Steeping the tea exactly four minutes, adding just the right amount of sugar and cream, and finally, reaching for the silver goblet he transferred the tea into the family possession.
The first sip was pure bliss, the exquisite flavor exploding on his tongue. He'd been saving this rare blend of tea for just the perfect occasion.
He stopped digging for a few moments, listening for the sound he knew was supposed to be there.
Nothing.
Sighing, he lifted his shovel once again. Four hours later, he stopped abruptly as he felt a hard metal surface under the shovel blade.
Digging with renewed enthusiasm, he moved another two feet of sandy soil before triumphantly uncovering his treasure. He reached down into the chasm he'd created, opened the rotted wood and metal trunk and gently picked out the silver engraved goblet, lying in pristine condition amid overflowing jewels of every brilliant color and bright coins both silver and gold.
Ignoring everything except the silver cup, he stood tall, glanced quickly around in the darkness, listened carefully once again, and silently left.
The journey home took several hours, but it seemed only a few moments because of the tumult of his excited thoughts. Finally, the cup was his and his alone. Back where it belonged. It should never have been taken from his family.
No matter, it was home. Only his family understood what a special vessel it was. Only he understood what the cup had meant to his family. For a moment, sadness overtook him as he realized he was the last of his line. No one else would know the joy of possessing this as a family heirloom. No one else was alive to share his joy and happiness at retrieving what had been lost for decades.
He looked up at the dim light in the trees. Home. There it was. Hugging his treasure, he whispered out loud. "We're home."
In the kitchen now, with the fire crackling cheerfully, and water almost to the boil in the teapot, he worked carefully to prepare the special tea mixture that his family was known and revered for.
Steeping the tea exactly four minutes, adding just the right amount of sugar and cream, and finally, reaching for the silver goblet he transferred the tea into the family possession.
The first sip was pure bliss, the exquisite flavor exploding on his tongue. He'd been saving this rare blend of tea for just the perfect occasion.
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