His mind was far from peaceful, and the words he muttered scared the birds from their perches. He was angry at the glowing device in his hand, and he whacked it with his palm. “Come on, you lousy phone!” he cursed. “Get some reception already! What good is a smartphone without any stinking reception?” He smacked the small phone against the side of a tree and it made a series of unhappy beeps, but still didn’t dial the number he wanted. “No, I don’t want to play Scrabble! I want to make a call!!” he growled at it, and whacked it again. “Aaargh!!” “That is not a very peace-loving thing to do,” a voice spoke from the darkness behind him. “In fact, I have never in my life met a monk whose meditation involved cursing at a phone.” Sir Edmund stepped from the darkness with a smile on his face. He wore a khaki explorer’s outfit with dozens of pockets and a little pith helmet, like something out of an old movie. He strolled over to Lama Norbu like it was perfectly natural for him to be taking a late night walk in the Tsangpo Gorge.
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