When in hell, your only salvation is to know you are an 饿鬼.
Maybe then you would not cling to the breaking string that climbs to distant heaven.
Through what unimaginable odds would you have to endure until every 饿鬼, patient as yourself, waited for hell to empty up that string?
And if the string broke for the last one, your only salvation is to know you are an 饿鬼.
My contemplation of the short story, the Spider’s Thread.