You come across a stray pile of rocks, polished slabs of stone that are gritty with orange grains and hot to touch. It's a good landmark to ease and rest, even if providing not enough shade to protect from the scorching sun above, heat absorbed and repurposed in the sea of sand underfoot.

"Do you ever wish you knew what you were doing?"

It's a hard question to answer, and the angel making a home in the pile of stone steps out to stand next to you as you sit with your back turned west.

"The world, inherently, is comprised of chaos. It is our job to make sense of it. Perhaps that is what gives life true meaning." They explain. "But I do not know. Not all of it, at least. I can make sense of things that I can reach. It is not important to know everything. Some things are better left to other people to figure out."

What do you think your life means?

"At the end of the day, someone has to be the reason there is music playing in the desert."