The Traveler.

Remember in the desert when you walked onto that animal with a knot of horns on its head, out of which grew other animals—pulled from the horns as if they were made of ribbon or foil? Fog rolled down from the hills as the animal ate the animals growing from its horns. Then God came, like the aperture of an old camera snapping shut. The animal died. And all the animals it had eaten turned alive again, the sun burning away the fog.

You haven’t seen anything like that since. But you keep looking. You will always keep looking.