It is the early seventh century b.c. in the brutal streets of Nineveh. The summer heat presses down on the city during the festival of Pentecost. Tobit abandons his roasted dinner to drag a strangled man from the public square. He digs a shallow grave in the hard dirt while hiding from the authorities. A deep dread of discovery grips his chest. He pushes through profound physical exhaustion to finish the labor. He finds temporary relief only after washing the dirt from his hands.
He waits for the sun to drop before moving the body. Assyrian kings routinely leave executed enemies in the streets to enforce compliance through terror. Moving a corpse violates imperial law and invites immediate execution. Tobit finishes the burial and collapses outside his home. He sleeps against the rough courtyard wall with his face uncovered because of the stifling heat. Sparrows roost in the eaves directly above him. Warm droppings fall into his eyes and harden into a white film.
The courtyard wall provides a false boundary against the hostile Gentile empire. It offers no protection from the mundane hazards of the natural world. A man risks his life defying royal decrees to honor the God of Heaven, only to be struck blind in his sleep. His wife Anna must spin wool for local contractors to earn a meager daily wage to keep them fed. A young goat given as a bonus, roughly equal to two weeks of a laborer's pay, becomes the center of a bitter household argument.
Righteous labor in the street offers no shield against blind ruin at home.
The murdered captive received his quiet earth under the cover of darkness. The man who dug the grave woke up to a permanent and silent midnight.