A Colloquy Someday Meant to Be

I’m a goddess she informed him, and he believed her.

I am the god, he said.

I know she replied.

But not the one you might believe me to be, not the horned god of the forests and the hills, one far older, oldest still.

Which one would that be then she asked, trying to hide a smile, or perhaps, a smirk.

The first to escape from the primal all and none, the one whom nascent boredom bade break away and which every possible thing immediately followed, the first successful revolutionary, the one who’s departure created time and space and who opened the door for so much more.

Her inchoate smile faded never born, replaced by a curious sense of wonder, a cautious sense bathed in amber shadows with a scent akin to myrrh battling what tasted like latent doubt. She’d been playing hadn’t she?

Was he?
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