Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the WildernessJulius LeBlanc Stewart At HomeTitian Sacred and Profane Love
desert. After death, a desert. The desert. No hells, yet. Perhaps there was hope.
He remembered a story from his childhood. Unusually, it wasn't about smiting. No one was trampled underfoot. It wasn't about Om, dreadful in His rage. It was worse. It was about what happened when you died . . . the journey of your soul.
They said: you must walk a desert . . .
"Where is this place?" he said hoarsely.
THIS IS AND NOW, IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME-
Fri'it took a deep breath, purely out of habit. Perhaps he could find a couple of rocks out there. A small rock to hold and a big rock to hide behind, while he waited for Vorbis . . .
And that thought was habit, too. Revenge? Here?
He smiled.NO PLACE, said Death .. . . all alone . . ."What is at the end of the desert?"JUDGEMENT .. . . with your beliefs . . .Fri'it stared at the endless, featureless expanse."I have to walk it alone?" he whispered. "But . . . now, I'm not sure what I believe-”YES?
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