Tales from The Owl: the story of the universe

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Once the world and all the planets were coloured stones in the enormous pockets of a giant named Roar. Roar was all there was and there was nothing but Roar. He stood alone in the immense darkness for billions and billions of years until an idea formed in his mind. And this was the idea: ROAR BORED. Billions more years passed. And then a new idea: ROAR PLAY. Roar’s hands went into his enormous pockets and pulled out the coloured stones.

He drew back his arm and threw a red one as far as he could into the darkness. He threw so hard that the red stone grew hot and began to glow as it moved. Roar lifted his head and watched the glowing red stone disappear into the blackness, and as he breathed in and out the stone went further away and then nearer to him till it was spinning in an arc around his head. Roar threw more stones into the darkness and watched as they made bright orbits around his head. He threw green stones and grey ones and mottled white ones and even little shattered shiny chips that flickered and winked.

Finally he was left with two stones – a warm, solid yellow stone in his right hand and in his left a small blue slippery stone. Roar lifted the yellow stone. It was so yellow that it left a trace of colour behind it as it moved, like a tail. Roar whirled his arm round and round to make a wheel of yellow. He whirled so fast that the stone burst into flames in his hand. HOT. GOOD. He placed the flaming stone on the top of his head. He lifted his other hand and placed the slippery blue stone in his mouth. He rolled it about on his enormous tongue, crashed it against his enormous teeth. Then when it was coated with the germs of Roar, he spat it out like an olive pit. Moist and gashed, it hung in front of his face. Roar watched his germs grow into trees, into seas, into rocks, into men. When he flapped his eyelids the seas surged high and smashed down over the trees, the rocks and the men. When he sneezed the blue stone shuddered and great splits ran through it. When he yawned huge winds tore the roots of the trees from the earth. And when he rumbled low in his throat the men began to fight. KILL. GOOD. So things went for a few billion more years, till Roar’s head filled up with a huge throbbing. ROAR BORED. He held his huge hand over the blue stone and the men stopped fighting and looked up at this sudden shadow. And for the first time they saw the fingers of Roar and the sun coming nearer and nearer as his shaggy head bent over them. Nearer and nearer till there was nothing but flame and a dreadful thunder coming closer and closer.

 

 

 

 

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