They are Speaking

I have an entire world in my head, and with it, an entire populace. Each member seeking my attention. Each begging for their story to be told. But where to begin if there is no beginning. These people, they exist and how they came to being is a mystery to them as much as me it would seem. All they know is that there was a time of creation. A time in which beings beyond their comprehension stretched out their hands, and --made. A creation of mere momentary thought and then, as seemingly instantaneously, left again (or so it seemed.)

Within the world, there is more beneath the surface than simply people living an existence. There is struggle. There is fear. There is a yearning to understand though it is harnessed and reined in like wild horses unbroken by a master. It pulls against their terror of the unknown straining to pull free and let loose the chaos knowledge can sometimes wreak upon the unready.

There is so much at stake--so much they must overcome, take to task, learn from. They are speaking, and I must listen. But, the question is, who of them will be the first to be given voice?

They are speaking, and I-- I must listen.