“Gold had many admirers, though Doha himself was not one of them. Too many allowed it to occupy the space inside their chests. He didn’t understand it. For a metal, it was pretty weak and unimpressive. And as currency, he’d only ever longed for enough. His father had worked his body broken so that they might have it. Doha did not think excess was worth his father’s misery. Still, as he beheld how the light reflected on the surface, he simply couldn’t help but be taken with its simple beauty.”
Book:The Paragon