"Did you know," she began, "amber isn't really a gem?" "What is it then?"
"It's fossilized tree resin, you know, trapped in its golden embrace for millions of years."
"Imagine the stories it could tell, the reflections it holds of creatures from a distant past."
"Reflections, huh? Like in a mirror?" "Exactly," she smiled, "but these mirrors are patient, waiting centuries for the right moment to reflect."
"Do you think it reflects me?" she asked, a hint of mischief in her voice.
The Reflective Pool