My aunt's backyard has some history.

While I sat at a table with my Aunt Laura, she made an announcement:

"I have something to show you," she said.

She walked away and when she came back, she clutched a small, ornate and wooden box. She set it on the table gently.

"What is it?" I asked.

Slowly, she took the cover off the box to reveal its contents:

a finger.

"This is the finger of Shakespeare's father," she said. "I found it in the backyard!"

Then, I woke up.

- - - -

So. Weird. I had this dream last night.