Her eyes became as nothing. Her lips became as nothing. Her voice became
as nothing. Her laughter and her tears, the movement of her body when
she walked, the strangeness of her face, the mysteries that made her one
apart and glorified her and the radiance that burned in me at her
approach—all became as nothing.
Miserable God. False Promiser. I have wished to know of death. I have
wondered what became of me when I went back to earth. Today I know.
“The Scavenger.”