[15: Traffic jam] The sound of the rain vanished into the thatched roof, and the whole house was quiet. A small refrigerator stood in the edge of the corner that served as a kitchen, looking out of place. "This place is about 500 years old. Took a bit of work to get the plumbing put in, but I helped my dad a couple summers ago. Electricity too." Meera shook her head. She had been to a temple once, a thousand years old, but it had been a grand ruin, not something that people still used. Moss covered stones, crumbled arches. Statues a hundred feet tall, but with chipped and missing features, carved away by the wind and rain. This house was anything but a ruin, kept tidily and maintained carefully by generation after generation. There was a car horn from outside the house, faint except if you stood near the window. Dick peered out, and exclaimed "Oh, blast! The gate came open." He grabbed his slicker again and ducked out of the house. Meera watched through the window as a wiry old man stepped out of a little black car, and shook his fist a bit at Dick, obviously annoyed at the flock of sheep thaht stood between him and his destination. She caught snatches of conversation. A "this is the last time" and a few hasty "Yes, sirs" from Dick. He whistled, and the black and white dog handily nipped at a few heels and the flock started to move again, but down the road instead of back through the gate. The man in the car slammed his door angrily, and the moment the sheep had cleared away from the road enough to squeeze by, he sped past, leaving a deep rut where his tyres slipped off the gravel covered road and into a marshy spot beside it. Another few whistles and the flock righted its direction, and started going back through the gate, the little dog moving quickly among them, darting between the road and the flock just as one of the sheep headed the wrong way, then back to correct someone else. This time, Dick took the heavy chain that hung by the gate and put a lock on it, and shook it more than once to make sure it stayed fastened, then the door opened again and he ducked in. "You're soaked!" "Yeah, I didn't fasten my slicker, I was in such a hurry to head off Dr. Peterson. Last time he came through and the sheep were on the road, he actually ran over one of the sheep. Then the next day his solicitor was knocking on the door and asking for damages to his car.