The First Day

A million people surrounded me on the First Day, faces lit with terror, their eyes burning with the fever of zealotry.

“Lifegiver!” one screamed, weeping openly. “Why is this happening?”

These were my people, my creation. I crafted each with love and patience, neglecting not the finest detail in my painstaking desire for perfection. So confident was I, that I never saw my mistake until it was too late.

“Please, Creator,” they begged. “Speak to us! Why? Why?”

In my arrogance and stupidity, I left out the vital component that makes us human: hope. And so they wailed hopelessly, bodies prostrated, sobbing into the ground. As the light faded, they began chanting.

“The darkness comes! The darkness comes!” Their screams reached a crescendo, the deafening noise drowning out my attempts to reply.

“SILENCE!” I finally bellowed, with all the power befitting a god. Their cries cut off instantly. I sighed, more embarrassed at myself than irritated with them. “It’s just a sunset! It will come back again tomorrow.”