The young boy was sat at the desk staring rather glassy-eyed at the third story, which still lay open in front of him. He felt tired and fed up. There seemed to be all sorts of possibilities in this one. The gift could be almost anything - love, eternity, hope, life; anything. He could not sort out which one. He did not seem to be doing very well so far. He felt sure the Angel would soon despair of him. Whatever it was he had to do on Earth, he was beginning to think he was just not capable of it. He swivelled in his chair at the sound of the door opening, and was surprised to see the Angel standing there. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically. “I can't seem to figure out this one at all," he said, with a sigh. “There are so many alternatives. What is it?" The Angel shook her head slowly. Yes, I know, he thought, I must work it out for myself. “I'm tired," he said with some feeling. The Angel smiled. “Never mind," she said. “Forget about that for today, I think you have had enough.
