Uruz

A Chapter by HermesHonor

Chapter One, in which a Ghost tries to remember Life.

In the beginning, He was nothing more than a thought.

There was a broad expanse of darkness, a great nothingness. At one point, in all the nothingness, a thought was had by something.

"Where is Everything?"

The nothing's full attention was on the thought now; it pressed in on the thought, hoping to suffocate it in the nothingness. But the thought was persistent.

"Hello? I remember I used to be something! I can't see anything in all this darkness. I need light!"

The nothing obliged cruelly by flashing the lights on and off in different colors until the thought was shaken as a dog shakes a rat. That thought died.

He did not, however, remain dead. He simply reappeared in a different, less heavy spot of nothing. He tried again, angry at his previous death.

"No no no! That's not what I wanted at all! I simply wished to see everything! I remember from somewhere there used to be colors! There used to be lights! There used to be dancing and singing and merriment! Where is all of that? That is what I would like. I wish to see where everything is.

The nothing turned the light on and left it. There was only white, swirling fog all around the thought. He, previously formless in the darkness, now realized that he was shaped like a little boy, and found himself happy with the discovery.

"Oh! How wonderful! I'm a boy!" Said the little boy. He skipped and jumped and began to sing. The white fog filled his mind with words.

"Owch." It said when he landed on the fog from his dancing. "Owch. Owch" it made this noise every time he touched the fog with enough solidity to stand upon it.

"What does that mean?" the boy asked the fog.

"You step on me with each dance you do. How I hate your kind." The fog moaned back.

The boy stopped dancing. He instead began to sing. The fog responded to that action in a similar manner.

"No, not your stupid songs! How I hate your songs! I simply wanted peace. I shall put you back to sleep."

"No, please don't!" The boy cried. He knew he could not contain his dancing and his singing, though, as those things made his heart soar.

"Why shouldn't I?" The angry fog asked. Some of the tendrils of the fog began to turn a light yellow. "I know you. You will dance and sing on me forever, crushing me beneath your stupid feet. What shall I gain from letting you dance?"

The boy-thought was not disheartened. He instead turned on the fog. "You have already shown me that you cannot keep me asleep. Should you put me to sleep, I would simply dance and sing in the darkness so that you may not be rid of me. Let me play." The boy said.

The fog was silent for a moment, and then a white chest of drawers appeared before him. "Then please, if you must dance upon me, wear some socks."

The boy opened the top drawer and found soft white tubes of woven fabric shaped for his naked feet. He sat upon the fog and put them on, then he stood with only the tubes of white breaking up the nakedness of his form.

"Alright, I now wear your socks. May I dance and sing now?"

"You will regardless." The fog answered back.

The boy took that as the actions were acceptable and began to play within the fog.

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