In the Beginning

“Psst! Aoife!” the voice boomed through Aoife, like a thunderstorm taking place in her veins. She was mildly surprised. She didn’t recognise the voice, but it obviously recognised her. And it could say her name correctly. She looked around. “Achem. Aoife. Over here.” Again, the booming that thundered through her, commanding her. Again Aoife looked around. “Up here!” the voice demanded, insisted. Aoife looked up. And saw, in the break between the clouds, a face. “Aoife, I…there’s something….” “No.” Aoife said. “You’re not real. It’s not possible that there’s a face in the clouds talking to me, therefore it’s not happening. Good day.” And she nodded politely to the non-existent face, and kept walking. In the clouds, God looked confused.

***

Floating on a nearby cloud, a bard sighed, and flipped back several pages of a large, leather bound book. Gripping several at a time, he yanked the pages from the book. He tucked them carelessly into an old urn he was using as a rubbish bin. He would dispose of it later. Muttering curses beneath his breath, he began this section again.

In the beginning, he wrote, there was a word and the word was Psst.