Up until Spring Break, I had been a regular, run-of-the-mill guy. I liked playing on my Dolphin(call me a Nintendo purist; I don't care), watching whatever Gundam series happened to be on at the moment, and reading the latest addition to the New Jedi Order, in order to stock up on more ammunition to launch at the author for killing yet another character. All right, maybe I wasn't regular. In fact, I was a sci-fi reading geek, but oh well. I was a lot closer to normal than I am right now.
I guess that's what having a rock capable of bringing my every desire to life will do to someone, isn't it? Makes me glad I'm not the impulsive type, or else God only knows what havoc could have been rought by the rock. Karen provided ample proof that this rock was not something to be played with.
I idly grab the rock and begin to examine it. I'm in a reflective and introspective mood, anyway. Maybe by examing the blasted thing I might find what I'm searching for. Who knows? This rock has already proved anything is possible.
As I carefully inspect the painstakingly carved rock, it became apparent just how much this little baby meant to the Incas. The surface of the rock was crawling with inscriptions of one type or another. This was quite a feat; the stone was only a few inches in size, after all.
The whole examination process both piqued my curiosity and perplexed me. How could the Incas, a society that couldn't even invent the wheel, manage to perfect the skills and tools required to carve this little stone? Better yet, how had they managed to create the stone at all? What principles did it work on? Magic? Time travel? Dimensional transfers? What?
In a brief moment, I growl to the heavens, "God, I wish I could understand Incan culture. I might be able to make heads or tails of these carvings."
I realized, far too late, that I was still holding the rock. I grimace, and hope like hell I didn't just do something very, very stupid...
