„God is Chinese and speaks only a few languages but He's got a bunch of indisputable virtues," said the Archangel Gabriel thoughtfully. In the setting sun his shadow measured well over seven metres. And he went on to enumerate all God's attributes.
 "God was born to Li Chung and Xo Mue'tz - young, smart, hardworking and good-looking people. It is impossible to imagine just how astounding God's capacities are when he was able to achieve such a thing even before he started to exist. After God's birth his mother Li Chung became an active member of various societies supporting the creation of the Universe and her contributions are in this respect unparalleled. His father Xo Mue'tz also become active in various societies - he was very popular among his colleagues.
  God had learned to read by the age of two. At two and a half He could play the violin with ease. At three He held his first exhibition of paintings of Himself, and he built his first computer at the same time, when He was beginning to walk. Immediately afterwards He became an outstanding dancer - His first dance performances, at which He managed to accompany himself on the piano, were attended by crowds of the first human beings whom he had created for the occasion. Soon He became a peerless role model - He didn't drink or smoke and was able to implement His ideas even before they occurred to Him. He was always an exemplary optimist. Even at times when he was haunted by melancholy and gloom, he never succumbed to disillusion, and braced himself, with new achievements, against the burden of so many millennia of being. "

Twilight had fallen. Rosie listens, fascinated. The angel smells of fresh air and gesticulates with his hands enthusiastically. She was puzzled by the word melancholy. She focused on it, surprised at how easily she could now summon up emotions, grasp their mood, see them in front of her, feel their fragrance. The angel became nervous.
"Listen when I'm talking to you" He said. Yes, she did what he asked at once. Melancholy was suddenly gone. Except that Rosie turned round and saw it standing somewhere behind her, waiting in the gloom of imminent night like an immaterial trembling. The angel had stopped speaking. .Does this kind of Melancholy have eyes? No, it is not something in human form. But I still know that it sees me. "If you wish, it will go away," said the angel. . No, perhaps I want it to stay. I want to see how such a thing works. How does melancholy really operate? Is it something living that from time to time infects is like the flu? Or is it a machine, into which the victim falls?