I sat down and rested my notebook on my lap, the aroma of Da Hong Pao catches my senses as she rested the tea pot down on the small glass table infront of me. "Now then." She leans back in her chair and crosses her legs. "You wanted to ask me something?"
"Ah.. yes." I wave open my notebook and let my pen kiss the paper. "You said in your book that you go against the notion that only God could create life, nature, weather, people and the universe." She raises an eyebrow at me. "What lead you to believe this idea?"
"Life is a novel with no author. It is an open book we can all write on. We can write our names, our values, our wants and even our reason for existing. Nothing could set the stage better than us."
Crackling noises come from the fireplace. "And you think God did not set this stage for us?" I leaned in so I could carefully pick up my cup. Her auburn eyes were beautiful enough to kill me inside.
"No, atleast not the one we have here on earth."
I stopped the tea before it reached my lips. I was stunned by her smile, it wasn't genuine.
"They travel across time and space. Observers from different plains of existence, plains by which they all created for themselves."
"You mean... other... Gods?"
"They go by many names, but from what I read inside the ancient libraries, one word does keep repeating in every book." She leaned in and took a book under the table. It was crimson and dark, 'Her recently published book?' Page by page she skimmed through it until she paused. She presented me with an open book with her fingernails pointing on one specific portion of the book.
The crackling began to intensify. Illuminating the book as I narrowed my vision. And as if the fire wanted to reveal what was written, I slowly focused on reading the one bold word.