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There was a silence. Nothing to be heard. There were only the hands of God which made the sound of life of which we know it. Why did God wish to take such a risk, of such danger and alarm, which may have caused him such harm? No one knows, no one cares. But the risk God took and had not shook his head at resisting the danger of the fate of his own and to leave the silence all alone. God tightened his fist and wished, for a sleeping thought of great bliss, to awake and then make a storm which would form a world of great love and happiness. Within that tightened grasp of nothing, that secured case of uncertainty, arose tremors. The fist began to tremble and inside began to assemble an almighty explosion of great tension and emotion. God wanted to set free the awakened dream but could not seem to unclench that tightened grasp, of which held the first world, or even the last. It was all building up inside and even as he tried, he could not hold it in, what was all part of him. Away came the once tightened fingers and as away came the thumb, with it had come, a light which was so bright that it filled God with fright. God could not see what he had created. And with this light came a sound of much might, which sang the song of creation. God closed his eyes as he could not stare at what in reality may be a nightmare. As the sound subsided and the light became dimmer, he heard sweet chirping, which made God smile. Then he felt slightly warmer and so began to wonder if it was safe to look or if the heat would burn his eyes. He slowly lifted the blankets which covered his sight to see alive what he once dreamt in the everlasting night. His dream had come true. Time passed and God observed the world of which grew fast. But God had no clue as to what would become of his dream come true. The creatures of which were very strange soon began to change into uncaring intellectuals who damaged their world by misusing their tools. They grew to hate each other. They took the life of one another so to settle a certain matter. God didn’t know what to do, the end to his world would be through war – and what more – he may never dream again. God watched the truth unfold as more bombs blew. The world was at war with itself. God’s world didn’t seem to be a world anymore. As they tore and tore and tore and tore – until there was no more. There was no smell, no sound, no scenery, no love. There was a silence.
~ Simon Jepps, 1990 (Aged 11)
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