what we think we become; yes Britto Brittoyou too become a Millionaire

You step out into a world of white sand and pink, sparkling sun. You walk onto the beach of a luxurious hotel and the waves crash over your feet like jewelry.

We walk into a room, and the walls are stacked full of gold coins, from smallest to the largest the value of millions, each one stamped with the faces of presidents and queens, kings, queens and their children, kings, and queens in a long line stretching to the ceiling, the very sky.

You rise from the water, the sun's warmth warming your back and shoulders. You see the bottom of a clear pool, the water clear and ringed by a thick wall of plants, some kind of vegetation that doesn't exist on earth but is related to the ones that do. Your head breaks the surface, and there is the deceptively quiet sound of the water parting before you.
The sea breeze carries the scent of coconut, tropical flowers, and the sharp tang of salt in the air.

The air is thick with the scent of money and gold, the scent of money only, no other scent to be found.