#harryflanery

Indy was starting to get annoyed because he couldn't reach the artifacts on the topmost shelf of his wooden storage cabinets. He'd stashed a few pieces of obsidian and pottery up there from his jaunt through Mexico. Granted, taking them had probably not been one of his more ethical decisions as an archaeologist,but they had no context so it hardly mattered. 

However, he needed the damn things for a talk at the local historical society he'd been roped into giving. When some of the board members had heard the youngest Flanery had returned home from his globe-trotting, they'd approached him with the request of giving talks on his experiences of the cultures outside of their small town. Connor and Tom had practically accepted for him, insisting he needed to stop digging up the yard. At least it paid some of his share of the bills. 

Climbing up onto the highest shelf any sane person would, he stretched his lean body to its furthest extent, muscles straining as he reached. Indy bit his lip as his fingers brushed the first piece of obsidian. Almost....