In the center of the room, on a raised dais, knelt an angel, its wings spread and raised, its face covered in its hands, weeping.
"How did you get in here," asked the stranger of the interloper.
"I honestly don't know," he replied. "Tell me, do you know what this place is? There are so many strange rooms...."
"This is the afterlife, and I am the Keeper. The rooms are all occupied, so you haven't wandered off. Part of my job is to keep you out," spake the Keeper, indicating a door. "Come, this way."
On their way out, the interloper asked: "Tell me: That angel back there, how did it die?"
"It died of grief - the first one in a long time. And that was no angel."