In the beginning, I sat at my writing desk, and thought. The page before me was formless and empty; my hand’s dark shadow hovered over the surface. There was my world, and there was the world in my mind—a single stroke of
my pen would begin it.
A story needed a setting. I gave myself a week to create one.
I penned the word ‘light’. The light contrasted against the dark. Together they took me through an evening, and then
a morning—the first stage.
Liquid was essential to the plot, so I shaped the word ‘water’ below the light above. There would be another evening, and morning—the second stage.
was then formed under the water. I made it habitable. An evening, and a morning would occur—the third stage.
This structure was easy to mark out.
My thoughts went to the ‘constellations’ that
would illuminate the depths of the story. I wrote that word next. It was a good outline. The next evening, and the morning marked—the fourth stage.
To be habitable, the water must overflow with life; the skies contain callings to
take flight; and the seas teem with life’s variety, and the promise of a thrill to be caught. This led to another evening, and morning—the fifth stage.
I penned some Words to define many words then—special Words.
I created these Words to compose their own meanings.
I gave them the power to flesh out the story in the setting I had created.
And it was so.
It was very good. And there was
evening, and there was morning—the sixth stage.