Esmeralda was an excavator. Or rather, a physical anthropologist turned archeologist with a specialty in on site excavation. Esmeralda was indeed, an excavator. Her career started with a most notable momentum, when she was only 21, still in college interning for Donald Johanson, and just so happened to be following close behind with an armful of brushes, chisels and air tight containers on the fated gloomy evening that Don, as she called him then, found the first fragments of the famed skeleton, Lucy. She was also there for the infamous night of desert camp partying in which the soft spoken intern cued up her favorite Beatles song, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds (she was always a sucker for rock songs in 3/4 time), for which the famed skeleton was named for. She was also responsible for distributing the acid to the team of partying archeologists which was responsible for making that particular name seem like a good idea.
Esmeralda has no doubt been around the block since those days, with moderate success on field and a great following for her most philosophical musings on the beauty of digging for the secrets of yesteryear. She has grown sturdier in her middle age, but still retained a waifish top to her physique, complete with dainty shoulders, small tits, frail tubular arms, and an unimaginably small 24 inch waist all sitting on top of her newly formed pre-menopausal rotund bottom. Many books have been published under her authorship, and she even had a short stint of ghost writing for an unnamed and much more famous anthropologist. In the end she found the ghost writing pursuit slightly less than satisfying, especially after the certain unnamed book hit the shelves as a best seller for five months solid. That book was her most successful accomplishment to date.
While working again in Ethiopia thirty years later, Esmeralda was finding herself in an archeological slump. She had been brushing and digging the planes for days proving her later life to be growing increasingly luckless. She had developed a neurotic habit of searching for upcoming excavation sites by her lonesome, she found the weariness meditative. Days and months and weeks and not quite years had proven useless. The occasional fossil of an already discovered, named stamped fish or creature would surface, but nothing of the epic nature she so rightly deserved. The lovely Esmeralda drifted and worked to the point of exhaustion when she first thought to herself that quite possibly she needed a new locale. Something perhaps more mystical. Ethiopia had is own sorted history and a loveliness in its prehistoric richness, but it was time for something stellar. Tonight, she thought to herself, I will move to Egypt.
That night, when the gloaming thickened the sky, Esmeralda went for a last stroll in the planes that she had long since considered a second home for herself. She wandered until her thick little legs could no longer bare to carry the weight of her slightness, and she had to sit down alone in the night. She sat in a half daze, thinking of things which are epic in their nature. As she always does when deep in thought, she was using the very tips of her fingers to gently push the dirt and sand around, making a small hole in the ground. It was a small prismatic glint that drew Esmeralda out of her tunnel vision and back to our world to see that within her hands was a gift from the excavating gods. A smallish heavy key shaped object made out of something that looked to be between mercury and crystal. She placed it in her pocket and took it with a grain of salt, an oddity that the land had given to her and not the community that had for the most part, denied her the prestige she earned.
This key most definitely had a place. Esmeralda was not concerned about it. Tomorrow she would be in Egypt.