Perhaps it's something particular to Saturdays that come after a busy week, during which you've been pushing yourself to do too much, and achieving little by your standards. Perhaps it's the warmth of the bed that won't let you leave until the morning is mature. Or maybe it's the crisp air, barely warmed by the autumn sun that sends a tingle through your body as you take deep breaths to clear your head.
What is it then, that unexpectedly opens your soul to the words in a book, and the thoughts they weave send waves of emotion coursing through, your head spins and you gladly fall into a new world...
'And when you do find one, observe with care,' he said to the intern: 'they almost always have crystals in their heart.'
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