The Spark of Creation

Photo from Pixabay

“Sparklers,” Annie said as she watched the kids play. “Chasing the gloom away at the speed of light.”

“What if inside each of those flashes of light was an entire universe?” Stephen joined her at the patio table and poured himself a glass of wine from the half empty bottle. “The fires of creation giving way to galaxies, stars, planets. Birth, life, and death; all continuing until the heat-death of their universe passes in just a few of our moments?”

“If that’s the case, then who’s to say we aren’t living inside someone else’s sparkler?” Annie’s head began to swim inside of an infinite loop of sparklers creating universes that have people with sparklers creating more universes. Where did the loop start? Where did it stop? Could loops even stop or start? She refilled her glass, hating infinite. Her finite brain just couldn’t deal with it.

“Do you realize,” Stephen said at last, “that your concept makes our twelve-year-old a god?”

She nearly choked on her wine. “And if the creation bears the image of its creator, then her universes all contain a whole lot of giggling friends, St Bernard’s, and cheese pizzas.”

Stephen stood up. “We live in a world that is struggling through a pandemic, has weaponized not only information but opinions, and seems to thrive on conflict. We demonize anyone different.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get the rest of the sparklers. The megaverse could use more universes like hers.”

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