I was about 8 years old when I first learned about the Islamic belief in two angels on our shoulders who make note of all our thoughts and acts. Scribes, they’re called – one noting all things good, and the other all things bad.
I felt quite uncomfortable with this. I thought, “I’ve already got God watching me. Do I really want two more sets of eyes over my shoulders?” I looked to the left, and then discerningly to the right, with Eastwood-esque squints, and flicked them.