The books were full of beautiful photos.
The problem wasn't finding one to sticky note but deciding which three I preferred of the lot. I'd never seen the aurora borealis in Sweden or the ice caps in Alaska. I'd never even heard of the Pyramids in Egypt or dreamt of swimming under a waterfall in Hawaii. How would a lowly slave know that there were giant rocks in odd formations called Stonehenge in England? Or that there are giant statues sunk beneath the Carribean sea?
I'd thought they weren't real, at first. They were too beautiful to be real, even more striking in some ways than the beach I'd been on just days ago, the one I had been certain could only have been a delusion. When I saw that there were specific locations written out beneath them, the name of the photographer logged
