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The Legend
In the mists, in the unconsciousness, in the time of no-self, with everything on the edge of coming-to-be but nothing at all coming into being, Groddlocritus sat.
Each moment that passed, his mind became clearer — but it was so very muddled to begin with that many, many, many moments had to pass before he had the first inkling that his thoughts were his own.
Breathing in and breathing out, his perception keened and his intuition clarified. Minutes, then hours, then days. A musing. A figment. A fancy, a notion, a dream … Finally: he Imagined!