In the Beginning

    In the first moment of time's waking breath, there was light.  It came from every direction through a sea of strings, strings that had disengaged from the primordial entanglement of our universe's singularity.  All things were connected in that sublime moment, as they were to be for billions of years to come.  The white hole's explosion burst forth through every dimension, across all topologies of the cosmological manifold, screaming through the mightiest storm in the history of space-time.  Enormous fronts of energy crashed through the vermilion soup, so that even the power of a trillion stars put together would have failed to stop the one generated by their acceleration.  The light was so powerful, so omnipotent, so orderly, that the constant of entropy had yet to disassemble its ingredients.  Darkness was therefore ubiquitous, the light struggling to escape, a forgotten memory of a time that never was; a time when time wasn't.  But nay, in the blooming birth of our universe, everywhere those streaming glories of illuminated string vibrated at the highest possible frequency.  Nay, everywhere there was light.