The world was ending.
Out on my father's farm, we'd all gathered together; me, my mom, my dad, Dan and Phil (they've been in a lot of my dreams lately), and whole assortment of family members and neighbours.
But we weren't crying, not many of us anyway, because we had a plan. I worked in a library, and when the news reports of tsunamis and tidal waves and tornadoes had started to appear, a friend of mine came to me with an old book. She'd filed it away months ago, but remembered what it said.
After reading it, I took her to my dads, where we could be free of the panic of the city, and we called everyone we knew. We couldn't tell them what was happening for fear of how big the crowd would get As it was, there were over 30 of us.
Once everyone was settled my friend opened up her book and began to read what appeared to be a child's tale.
"Once upon a time, there was a great creature that drifted through the stars on its own. One day, the lonely monster decided it would build itself some friends. But the friends it built were all much much smaller than the beast, and could not live in space like it could. So it built them a home in the form of a small rock, on which there was water, some grass, and an apple tree. There it could fit one friend, but when the beast made it bigger it could fit two, or three, or four.
So desperate for friends was the creature that it surrounded itself with the rock, building more and more, over and under its body until it was completely buried. But the beast kept building and made little tunnels through the rock that reached the cavern where it lay so the friends could all come play.
This entertained the creature for a long time, but eventually it became very tired. It asked its friends to tell it a bedtime story, so they did. They all dressed up, each person played a part, and they wove a tale of magic and loyalty, of strength and pureness of heart, of betrayal and love. The creature's friends promised it that the story would go as the monster slept, and would be there to play with it again when it woke up.
And the creature slept. It slept for hundreds of years without stirring, and while some of its friends stayed and continued to tell the story, others got bored and went back up to the surface to see what life held there. Some boulders fell in front of the tunnels to the cavern over the years, and many of the friends on the surface forgot about their friend underground.
When finally the creature woke again, it shifted, and yawned, causing great shivers to run through the rock, and on the surface the waters thrashed and attacked the shores.. The few who still remembered their friend felt terrible for how they had left it alone, so they picked out friends in their villages and sent them underground, giving them directions and the names of the characters each would play.
These chosen friends reached the cavern just as the creature opened its eyes, and immediately introduced themselves as the people they would play.
The creature thought this great fun, as though its story had come to life while it slept. So it watched the people play out the story, and when they got stuck, or forgot a line, it put helpful hints in their minds to push them along. The creature did not like how slow the friends got after they had been performing for a few dozen years, so it rewound their bodies and stuck a pin in the gears, keeping them from growing older.
And so they played, until again the creature felt tired and asked them to start from the very beginning to put it to sleep. They obliged. After a few years they realized that when the creature slept, they aged again. At first they were frightened, but they continued performing because it was the only life they remembered now. They grew older and forgot more lines, but without the creature helping them, they could not get back on track and the story changed. When at last they had all died, the cavern was silent for another thousand years.
The cycle continued for billions of years, and each time the creature awoke, the oceans boiled and the ground shuddered, uncovering the tunnels that led to the stirring creature. Whether on accident, or on purpose, what came to be called people found their way down and played their parts. The stage became more elaborate and the story more detailed, until it was no longer just a play, it was a life.
And so it will continue until the end of time."
