The Beginning

And then there were Two.

There was Nothing and there were Two and they were not in love. Love was not a thing yet, there was Nothing.

One said to the other, "I've discovered I can say words."

The other looked over and said. "What are words?" For words had just been created.

"They are these," Said the First.

"Oh of course," said the Second. "We must do something with them."

"Like what?"

"Write." The Second decided for they had just created writing.

And so they did. They wrote their words and made up things that would go into the Nothing.

They had nothing to write with at first, but then they did and they did not ask why. Questions were still unfamiliar and unused in the Nothing.

When the Two had written all they could with everything they could think of, they looked down. The words were written all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling of the Nothing. They had come up with all of these.

"I did not know we had a ceiling," Said the First. No one had ever not known things before.

"I thought we made that up," Said the Second.

They stood and watched as the ceiling and the floor and the walls began to take in their written words, pulling them into themselves.

The Two looked at each other and then at the words.

"Do you suppose our ideas are coming true?"

"I do not know. I think so." 

And they were. The walls became Endless, the ceiling blue and Eternal, and the floor became overflowing with grass. 

A field. The first of its kind. The walls continued to stretch beyond eyesight, the ceiling now a sky kept climbing higher, and the floor continued with the walls.

"Wow." Said the First. 

"Indeed," Said the Second.

"Will what we want always come true?" Asked the First.

"I do not know. Let's see."

The pen, for indeed it was a pen, was taken in their hands. They wrote on the ground, in the dirt they had just created. 

Nothing, not the Nothing but just nothing, came from the dirt.

"Try the trees," Said the First for trees had been grown as they wrote.

They wrote on trees, on leaves, on the ground again, and they tried the sky but they could not force the clouds to bend.

"Well," Said the First. "It seems we must find our own way, the Nothing cannot make us Anything anymore."

"Yes," Said the Second. "May we still write, do you think?"

The First crossed their arms and looked up. "If the Nothing didn't want us to write, It wouldn't have allowed us to."

"Hm." The Second said.

"Hm." The First agreed.

"If we write more," The Second said. "We will need names."

"I am cold, also," The First said, for no one had been cold before.

"We will need clothing then. Clothing and names." The Second shivered because they were the second to be cold. "I will be Meadow, because I like where we are now."

The First nodded. "Well, Meadow, I will be Sky because I would like us to be there."

"Alright, Sky," Said Meadow. "We must now find clothes."

"Yes, Meadow," Said Sky. "Let us walk."

And then there were Two. And they were not in love, for love had not been created. 

But they had created everything else and this, Love, would be created for them. When there were more than Two.