Alone

Only a shadow, from what could I see. Floating in space, in vacuum; there was nothing to cling to, nowhere to set foot. It was not above anything, nor below, it just was there. This was the mind of the man who knew nothing; blank, abstract. It was no blanker than a piece of paper from a notebook, it was not more written than a clear sky. The shadow began to grow, softly, as becoming something material. Then, the material started to have its own shadow; not on the floor, as there was no floor at all, but in the vacuum itself. A shadowy aura, dark and empty, surrounding the entity that emerged into existence. It was not long before it became a humanoid figure, in a cross-legged position, as meditating. I could only see the black and blurry back, until a linen cape was visible; the figure was not moving, you could say that it was waiting for something to happen. And it did. Everything went black around me, I could not use my eyes, not knowing if they were open or not. Finally, the same white and blank void popped up. The body was no longer there, a blank piece of paper appeared in my left hand, and I was holding it firmly. I took a look around, I was floating in nothingness, just like before; I had a blank paper, but I had no pen or pencil, how was I supposed to write anything on that paper? Maybe I didn’t need to write; maybe the letters would appear in the paper just as the paper appeared from nowhere. I lift my skilful hand as if I was holding a pen and pressed the paper with the tip of my fingers. Nothing. Then, like wizardry, the paper went darker and darker until it was just nothing but absolute black; no ink could be black as night. I turned the page. In the other side, it was still a blank and white piece of paper which I held from the bottom. In that very same moment, like a rushing river, my ears started hearing something. It was a distant and flat sound that I could not identify, but at the same time, from the tip of my thumb, the white side of the paper started to become blue, like a flood due to a voracious flow of water in summer; it stopped in the middle of the page. The other half was, surprisingly, not white anymore; it was light blue, the color of the sky. It was clear, the horizon was obvious. There was a pause in which silence filled the atmosphere. Nothing had changed in my surroundings; I was in the same void. There was a trembling noise; now the sound was louder, heavier and deeper. Again, I was not able to tell what it was. With slowly pace, I could start to feel something in the paper, volume. It was not plain anymore; a little voluptuous brown and green figure appeared in the bottom, just where my thumb was. I realized soon enough, this was land. I could feel it in the other side too, but it was still black. It had to be land, this was the night, I almost shouted in joy for my discovery. Nevertheless, I realized there were no stars here, and as I thought about it, little and scarce white points of light started to shine in the black sky. I had thought about them and I saw them grow, I was their father. I conceived the moon and the sun, too. In that very moment, the sheet of paper lifted from my hand as a puppet guided by invisible strings, I could see it rotate in cycles, day and night, as an ever flowing system. But it was not alive, not yet, at least. The next sound was clearer and louder than any other before, it was the cry of a flock of seagulls which I managed to see flying above the sea, then the bellow of a creature, the roar of a beast, the howl of a wolf. Finally, the mightiest, scariest and most intimidating sound I ever heard, after which all went into silence again; I heard human voices.
Another look around; only blank space, above my cape and below my crossed legs, vacuum. And I decided to rest.