Far off, across the sand, I saw two figures standing. With wings upfolded high above their heads, and stern faces set, neither man nor beast, they looked out across the desert sand, watching, watching, watching! I did not ask God what they were, for I knew what the answer would be.
And, further and yet further, in the evening light, I looked with my shaded eyes.
Far off, where the sands were thick and heavy, I saw a solitary pillar standing: the crown had fallen, and the sand had buried it. On the broken pillar sat a grey owl-of-the-desert, with folded wings; and in the evening light I saw the desert fox creep past it, trailing his brush across the sand.
Further, yet further, as I looked across the desert, I saw the sand gathered into heaps as though it covered something.
I cried to God, “Oh, I am so weary.”
God said, “You have seen only one half of Hell.”
I said, “I cannot see more, I am afraid of Hell. In my own narrow little path I dare not walk because I think that one has dug a pitfall for me; and if I put my hand to take a fruit I draw it back again because I think it has been kissed already. If I look out across the plains, the mounds are burial heaps; and when I pass among the stones I hear them crying aloud. When I see men dancing I hear the time beaten in with sobs; and their wine is living! Oh, I cannot bear Hell!”
God said, “Where will you go?”
I said “To the earth from which I came; it was better there.”
And God laughed at me; and I wondered why he laughed.