Dogbone / Blog

Let There be Light

In the beginning, boy created four clear walls and placed dark, dank clay upon the bottom. He placed sand to the south and rich earth to the north, dividing the area within. Boy placed a dish of ceramic in the corner and made water. He rested and found it was good.

On the second day, he placed forty-eight ants on the sand and several gecko lizards on the dirt. The ants were fed sugar and the geckos were fed grub. Both were ordered to multiply.

On the third day, boy entered some plants that were flung to the four corners of his world. He watched as the ants dug tunnels and the geckos clung to places even he hadn’t expected. Boy rejoiced.

On the fourth day, boy made light. He trembled as he placed it close to his world and discovered its worth. Along with its brightness he’d also created warmth. As a gift to his world, two perfect rocks he placed in the sand.

On the fifth day he rested. And found that it was good.

On the twentieth day, boy looked down upon his world and found the ants were a multitude and geckos numbered eight. He hugged his world tightly and caused it to quake. The geckos scurried in fright and the ants ran possessed, dying in great numbers as tunnels collapsed. He saw this too, and found he felt good.

On the one-hundredth day of his world, the ants swarmed within the glass and the geckos flew above the ground. And the grubs had metamorphasized into black beetles of dung. Boy was astonished.

After ten days passed, he gazed upon the mayhem. Ant fought against gecko, gecko against ant, gecko against gecko and ant against ant. And the beetles...they lay low. He grew uneasy , as unwholesomeness spread upon his world and lawlessness ruled supreme. He tipped over the ceramic pool and watched in apathy as many were drowned.

He fed them no more.

On the on-hundred and twentieth day of his world, the plant had all dried. The beetles had eaten the geckos and all the ants had died.

In grief, boy left his world and wept for forty days and forty nights.

On the one-hundred and sixtieth day of his world the boy wept no more.

He wrapped his world in butcher paper and placed it in a cardboard box. And threw it away, along with his rocks.

-John King