The Well at the End of the Coordinates

Six digits, then six more, repeated for nineteen minutes in a voice with no accent and no breath in it. I wrote them down because I write everything down.

Plotted, they were not a grid reference for anywhere important. They were forty miles from my house, in a stand of pine, on a dry well with a sheet of plywood over the mouth.

Transcript ends here // the log continues on the channel