Describe it?  How does one describe that?  I would have given the giant a proper answer, but I couldn’t concentrate on his question.  What a pickle.

     The giant impatiently drummed his fingers on the counter top.  This made a din as loud a midsummer thunderstorm.  I barely heard his next question.  “Is it bigger than a pile of troll poop?” 

     “How big is a pile of troll poop?”  After fleeing from a few of them this past night, I had a general idea, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure.

     “About as big as you, you little human turd.”

     “My, aren’t you the sweetheart.  Does your mother know you talk this way?”  How about that.  I made a giant blush.  “Isn’t there some other way to find my concentration without a description?

     “You could hire a guide gnome and go look for it in the back.”

     “What’s that going to cost me?”

     “You have a garden?”

     “Um, yeah.”  I shuddered at the thought of having a gnome in my garden.  I doubted my gargoyles would approve.  Would they go on strike?  Oh dear, imagine that picket line.

     The gnome guide led me through the weirdest collection of items I’ve ever seen.  He kept singing a little ditty under his breath about having to get out of here. 

     “You’ll know you’ve found it when you feel a tug on your brain.”

     “A what?”

     “A tug.  A pull.  Are all of you humans so dense?”

     We were on the second floor near the back wall when I felt a yank not a simple tug.  I still can’t describe it but as it settled onto my head and sank into my brain, I felt at ease once again. 

     Hey Jim, your balance should arrive soon.  I told them where to send it.