Aba Gvoha was old, and his wife was old.
He said to the maker, “My wife and I have no child. A stranger will inherit everything that we own.”
The maker said to Aba Gvoha, “A son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir.”
Aba Gvoha silently wondered how such a thing could happen. Aba Gvoha wondered how it could.
The maker said, “Aba Gvoha, look upwards into the darkness and count the stars. This will be the number of your children’s children.”
Aba Gvoha believed what the maker said to him. This is what made Aba Gvoha special.
A day was coming when the life of every person in the 3-part harmony of the past, the present, and the future, would be balanced on the sharp peak of a mountain, on a rock that circles a fireball as it shoots through the nothing.
On that day, in the greatest of all Kairos moments, the maker would ask his mirror-partner to make a cut so painful that it would send both of them into the black-black darkness.