Shadows from very tall pine trees that were falling across the rough road had receded to only a small fraction. As usual, the market was silent during this time of day. Once in a while a bicycle passed. Under the overhanging roofs thickly covered with dust, a few groups of country people were walking. Now and then shouts came from the café on the corner, but the passers-by did not pay any attention, since everyone knew all those who might be a bit drunk any time or season.  Who else would it be but Khern or, as he was known around town as "Teacher Khern," and his three or four cronies. To tell the truth, they weren’t a bad bunch. If boisterous, it was often when each had drunk enough to be polluted, and Khern, the leader, was no alien to intemperance. Rather, he had risen to be abbot of the local temple. He had reached the second of the three lower levels of Dharma studies; he performed his religious tasks well; and he was highly-regarded by the devout.