A Holy Book
Genesis
1
Maybe it started with darkness. No wait, no, it was a warm red glow. And this red place that floated for eons in great expanses of demonic nothingness housed the white orbs of blinking eyes and chattering teeth. Wings emerged, talons broke free, and angels were born on the first day of the calendar. Before this birth, there were no days, no calendars, no voices to keep time. The angels spewed out gardens and oceans on the second day of the calendar, landed lightly in the twisted, writhing trees, and clicked their teeth to the wet sky. The trees rooted to the red, pulsating walls of this glowing, abysmal house and veins crawled up into the roots, curled in and out of the branches, and dripped bloody leaves into the stagnate air. On the third day the monsters emerged from the trees, colorless, formless beasts that cut through the half-formed world and split the sky from the sea. The water in the air turned to dust and rained down on the angels and beasts; the blue ash ripped through their flesh and bones and they boiled on the barren ground. On the fourth day, more angels appeared, more monsters; paws, tongues, and eyes grew from the remains of the dead. The angels molded them into animals, the invisible beasts tore mountains, rivers, valleys into the earth and on the fifth day they copulated, wings wrapped around the unseen, and the glowing haloed marvels were devoured by the ghosts. On the sixth day, their kin were born; the strange union between that which is and that which is not. I think I may be the result of that union. Sand poured out the angels as the children emerged. They wept tears of life; flowers and grass sprung up wherever their tears touched the tan earth. On the seventh day, the children destroyed their parents but more orbs appeared in the heavens, hidden above the floating clouds of white ash. The monsters slithered out of the trees now towering and sulked through the rugged deserts and wet, green mountains. The children built cities and the process continued. It continues now. It will continue forever.
-Bryan Edenfield
The first man decided it was right to spell god with a single letter, the second took to breaking chairs. The next one learned a liking for the color of coins and another declared that it had been written, “one should never drive in cars.” The fifth man spent all his thoughts on boats. Another man said it was sand that would show the truth. The seventh laughed because there was never such a thing. Two more joined together and planned to kill their brother, who had begun to like magic shows and the color white. The next man had convinced himself the sea was green and therefore apples could not be. The twelfth man chose to say nothing, but was sent away, just like the rest.