arms folded across
his chest, turned to look at his audience. Assured that he had their rapt
attention he went on.
“Do you know how long it takes for a diamond to form?”
The humble host that he was, Willis waited until his guests
shook their heads before he continued. “For a diamond to form, you must have
just the right combination of pressure and heat. But the most important
ingredient is simply, time. Some diamonds may take thousands of years to form
while others have taken millions of years. The best diamonds, however, have been
in the ground for billions of years.
“Can you imagine? Billions of years? If a diamond
could speak, the tales it could tell. The earth forming, reforming, the animals
that roamed before man; then of course the emergence of man .
“The very vibrant soul of the diamond can be crafted into a
magnificent masterpiece in the right hands. Its strength makes it immortal and
so valuable.
“A raw diamond is unique, pale-yellow crystal clusters,
golden or greenish grey. But, a diamond is only as valuable as it is rare.
“When one comes across something so rare wrapped in a
mystery, such as her…” Willis hesitated for a moment, lost in thought before he
continued. “As a collector, well, I couldn’t resist.”
Willis raised his hand
to his possession. At least that is how he thought of her; a rare and valuable
object to possess and own. In his eyes, she was a mere creature as brilliantly
beautiful, and just as eternal if not as rare, as an uncut diamond.
Dropping his hand, he continued, “Her story is amazing and
also a simple one. Her name was Tamosia. She was the daughter of a farmer. As
the legend was told to me by her great granddaughter Tamosia was in the field
late at night to meet her betrothed. She heard noise in the brush and thought he
was playing a game with her, as he was quite mischievous and often enjoyed
sneaking up on her.
“She started toward the brush with a giggle on her lips.
Perhaps this time she would sneak up on him . As she got closer she spied
a woman kneeling over a wild boar which had been ripped wide open, its heart
still beating in the woman’s hands. As Tamosia watched in horror, the woman
raised the boar’s heart to her mouth and began to eat.
“Tamosia had heard many legends of the flesh eating ghouls
that had once belonged to her tribe, but never really believed until that
moment. She backed away as quietly as she could but tripped at the last minute.
The gorging woman heard her and boldly attacked her, ripping the flesh from her
raised arms as she defended herself. She was able to push herself away and ran
back to the village where she awakened her parents and betrothed, who, quite
shamelessly, had fallen asleep.
“She had died a few hours later and the villagers quickly
buried her. She was laid to rest in a secret place that was set aside for ‘ the
sacred dead that walk the earth’ as they label them. Other tribes I have
learned call them Zimbaween - dead man walking. They told me that
she had risen by the evening of the following day, doomed to walk forever in the
land of the living. The local shamans lured her into the cave where the rest of
the sacred dead were kept. I paid a handsome price for this one.
“She is 80 years old. You cannot tell now can you?
“But she becomes very cunning and even quite friendly when
she is hungry. She tries to lure me into her enclosure as a hooker would do,
running her hands over her body and cooing. She is not aware that I am a man
that prefers the company of a much harder body than she possesses.
“And to answer the question you asked me previously… as you
well know she is from Guyana”
Dillon nodded, fair enough. “Could you let her see us, I’d
like to see her reaction; would you adjust the glass so she would be able to see
us?” Dillon asked.
“Of course, she has just eaten as you can see from the calf
bones scattered throughout the
his chest, turned to look at his audience. Assured that he had their rapt
attention he went on.
“Do you know how long it takes for a diamond to form?”
The humble host that he was, Willis waited until his guests
shook their heads before he continued. “For a diamond to form, you must have
just the right combination of pressure and heat. But the most important
ingredient is simply, time. Some diamonds may take thousands of years to form
while others have taken millions of years. The best diamonds, however, have been
in the ground for billions of years.
“Can you imagine? Billions of years? If a diamond
could speak, the tales it could tell. The earth forming, reforming, the animals
that roamed before man; then of course the emergence of man .
“The very vibrant soul of the diamond can be crafted into a
magnificent masterpiece in the right hands. Its strength makes it immortal and
so valuable.
“A raw diamond is unique, pale-yellow crystal clusters,
golden or greenish grey. But, a diamond is only as valuable as it is rare.
“When one comes across something so rare wrapped in a
mystery, such as her…” Willis hesitated for a moment, lost in thought before he
continued. “As a collector, well, I couldn’t resist.”
Willis raised his hand
to his possession. At least that is how he thought of her; a rare and valuable
object to possess and own. In his eyes, she was a mere creature as brilliantly
beautiful, and just as eternal if not as rare, as an uncut diamond.
Dropping his hand, he continued, “Her story is amazing and
also a simple one. Her name was Tamosia. She was the daughter of a farmer. As
the legend was told to me by her great granddaughter Tamosia was in the field
late at night to meet her betrothed. She heard noise in the brush and thought he
was playing a game with her, as he was quite mischievous and often enjoyed
sneaking up on her.
“She started toward the brush with a giggle on her lips.
Perhaps this time she would sneak up on him . As she got closer she spied
a woman kneeling over a wild boar which had been ripped wide open, its heart
still beating in the woman’s hands. As Tamosia watched in horror, the woman
raised the boar’s heart to her mouth and began to eat.
“Tamosia had heard many legends of the flesh eating ghouls
that had once belonged to her tribe, but never really believed until that
moment. She backed away as quietly as she could but tripped at the last minute.
The gorging woman heard her and boldly attacked her, ripping the flesh from her
raised arms as she defended herself. She was able to push herself away and ran
back to the village where she awakened her parents and betrothed, who, quite
shamelessly, had fallen asleep.
“She had died a few hours later and the villagers quickly
buried her. She was laid to rest in a secret place that was set aside for ‘ the
sacred dead that walk the earth’ as they label them. Other tribes I have
learned call them Zimbaween - dead man walking. They told me that
she had risen by the evening of the following day, doomed to walk forever in the
land of the living. The local shamans lured her into the cave where the rest of
the sacred dead were kept. I paid a handsome price for this one.
“She is 80 years old. You cannot tell now can you?
“But she becomes very cunning and even quite friendly when
she is hungry. She tries to lure me into her enclosure as a hooker would do,
running her hands over her body and cooing. She is not aware that I am a man
that prefers the company of a much harder body than she possesses.
“And to answer the question you asked me previously… as you
well know she is from Guyana”
Dillon nodded, fair enough. “Could you let her see us, I’d
like to see her reaction; would you adjust the glass so she would be able to see
us?” Dillon asked.
“Of course, she has just eaten as you can see from the calf
bones scattered throughout the
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