The game was over. Mike drained the last dregs from the beer can and lay back in his seat, listening wistfully to the peace and quiet that filled the house. He was going to miss this.
Yet he couldn't keep his family as goldfish bowl decorations forever. He cleared away the beercans and rolled up his sleaves to dunk them elbow-deep in the fishtank. His fingers managed to grip one of the slippery stones that layered the bottom.
So which one was this? he wondered, holding the large pebble in the palm of his hand and the device ready in the other. The water-slick, almost-human face formed out of the natural whorls and colours of the stone looked back at him. It almost looked like...