Kadamb reached down for a chunk of earth. Dry and brittle, it gave way easily to his practiced fingers, and the re-pulverized bits sifted back down to where he had disturbed it. This was the place. Here.
Good afternoon, Gloaming Gap Emporium. Betsy speaking. How may I help you? I’m sorry. There seems to be some interference on the line; could you repeat that? Perhaps there is a problem with the phone lines.