And thus Cimmy solved the problem that had tormented sages and saints forever: if there was a God, how did he allow so much evil in the world? It was very simple. God’s reality was still a work in progress, as of yet unfinished.

Behind the magnifying glasses, a cluster of entities wandered about in fluid motion, some small and red, some large and white, an entire world of blobs floating purposefully in a clear liquid, the internal structure of living things.

“Our story began in the year of our Lord twenty one hundred and five at a farm in the south of France, a small stone building surrounded by vineyards and lavender fields baked by the Mediterranean sun.”