His mind simply couldn’t comprehend the majesty, the mystery, the sheer enormity of this place with its soaring dome-shaped ceiling rising out of polished black walls. Even on this, his fifth visit over the last eight months, he could barely think. He could only feel—and that feeling wasn’t just awe.It was relief. Relief that his father’s dying wish had been fulfilled. Relief that looters hadn’t short-circuited that victory. Relief that there was a God—a God with a heart. How else could Tagg explain the combination of faith, dumb luck, and expertise that had forced this spot to reveal itself anew to him, the son of Paul Taggert and thus the heir apparent? Amazing.According to Tagg’s laser measuring device, the floor of the cave was forty-four feet in diameter. The ceiling peaked at twenty-two feet. Half of a perfect sphere. Perfect being the operative word.He remembered how he’d felt when he first stumbled upon it. Eighteen years of searching and then suddenly, nirvana.Of course, it would have been even more perfect if there had been something here besides sheer rock, but Tagg didn’t want to be greedy.
What do You think about Perfect Specimen: Brietta (2012)?
