“South...?” the man said, but Peter’s sense of orientation relied much more on pointing and showing the way than cryptic instructions like North or South.
“Thank you,” he replied, trying to look savvy in the secret ways of… finding the way.
He walked aimlessly through white aisles, past the milk and butter shelves, the yogurts and some mysterious small bottles announcing they’d make anyone’s lazy intestines work just fine.
“South, huh? Why is it always so difficult to find someone who can give a clear, objective reply to a clear, objective question? Where are the bodies? It seems simple enough.”