Sanctuary “Welcome to Sanctuary,” said the unicorn. “Oh. Er. Yes. Thanks very much,” Justine replied. She was currently seated at a small, white wrought-iron table in what could only be described as the most picturesque garden she had ever seen. There were blossoming flowers everywhere, and butterflies, and a little stream whose quiet babbling was punctuated by vibrant birdsong. It was not what she had been expecting when she was directed to the Waiting Room. She awkwardly picked up the cup of tea the unicorn had just set upon the table before her. The china rattled as she took a sip. It was good. “Like it?” the unicorn asked. Justine nodded as she replaced the cup. “Yes. It’s quite good.” “Oh, good,” the unicorn smiled, “I was so worried that they had steeped it for far too long. Pi
Around the World in 80 DaysDesert. No water. Isn't urine sterile?