Under his wide-brim cap, the zoo-keeper gave us a cross-eyed look, that made Minnie laugh, until she realised that he was born like that. The man did not seem to mind, and tore up our tickets as if nothing had happened. He kindly showed us the way to the staircase that led to Heaven. Not the real one, of course, we'd leave that for later, but a surrogate one, a papier-mâché version that could fool the little kids and still please their elders. They had painted the staircase sky blue, with white clouds drifting here and there. Small winged creatures sat on the clouds or flew around. They were badly drawn. One could easily mistake them for squashed bugs. The lack of funds had added a grey layer of dirt on top of the scenes. It was old, and quaint. But the kids actually seemed to enjoy the paintings, and climbed up the stairs cheerfully, pointing to us the squashed angels, a corny foretaste of the marvels to come.

When we arrived at the top, the sun was setting down. The sight was beautiful. Other families returning from the Heavenly Paths lingered there, warming themselves in the last rays. Minnie was particularly excited. She hopped around the platform, unable to understand our own contemplative state. She was the one to spot the horse who was coming slowly up to the railing, floating lamely on some enigmatic emptiness that was coloured red by the sunset. The animal was old and mangy, and its eyes reflected the sweet melancholy of the fallen ones. To Minnie, it was just another gentle horse to feed and pat on the head. To us, these inhabitants of a second-rate Heaven had another