before time
In the beginning, there was nothing but God.
She was never called that, really, by anyone who truly loved her. For people of that sort, she was known as mother, and the amount that she was loved by those people almost outweighed her own love for them.
It was lovely, in the beginning, because there was just those three.
Power imbalance wasn’t much of a problem in this relationship; the children, though nearly in control of the mother, loved her too much to bear it, and the mother loved them back, so much so that she could never think of them with anything but utter adoration. This very quality, in the end, would be what caused her death, but there was nothing either the Angel or the Demon could do about that.
After all, the only rule was rule Number One:
Don’t meddle.
Among the many inhabitants of the Great Experiment, certain nicknames involving expletives in between the two words and some replacing the words entirely prevailed. But the meaning remained the same:
You have one job, and you are going to do it well.
The jobs, and all that came around it, however, are not the point of this story.
This is a love story. Of many different kinds, but overall, it is a love story, and will always remain so.
And after God, there were the two Others. She smiled (finding a way to, not having a mouth) at them patiently, impressions of hands clasped in front of her as the others looked at each other.
The blonde one with the white wings smiled.
The dark one frowned.
And, hands clasped together, the two set off for their quarters.
And that was the Beginning, truly.
