The stones are laid on my chest, stone after stone they are laid upon my chest. I cannot breathe; I cannot move; I am trapped as the devil lays stones upon my chest. "Devil," I say, "why do you do this to me?" "There is only one other person in the universe besides you," says the devil; "there are only two people in the cosmos and the other is your twin. He lives in eternal pleasure; you live in eternal pain. If you didn't suffer, he would not be able to feel bliss; if you felt bliss, he would have to suffer." "Devil," I say, "where is he, that I may meet with him and beg for his mercy." The devil says, "There is a wall between you, and you cannot touch his realm, and he cannot touch your realm. He spends his time with purified maids and lovely foods and wines, while I lay stones on your chest to suffocate you very slowly." "What is his name, at least," I say. "The Sandman," says the devil, laying another stone on my chest. "Will you take some stones off my chest to please me," I say, "that he may suffer a little?" "You are the fallen one and he is the redeemed," says the devil. "You are the one who is to suffer and he is the one who is to live in bliss. Could there be any other way?" And I now have so many stones on my chest I cannot speak anymore, and so I close my mouth, and slowly mourn my fallen state.