
By The Brush
Existence is a canvas, awaiting the paint of a God. Someone just threw the whole damn bucket at it.
You know, I've always wondered. What would it be like to build a land from the ground up? Swipe a brush and create rolling hills, dots in the sky become stars, add some blue for water, red for lava, maybe some yellow for liquid sunlight.
What would it be like to simply take a white space, drop a pony in, and see what happens when you give them the tools to be a God? Perhaps through the ramblings contained within, we might find out.
1112 words: Estimated 6 minutes to read
1 Chapter:
- Chapter 0: Null 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC1112