What’s the opposite of a set? What’s the opposite of a series? I don't know, but I embody that thing.

I’m a
collection of moments, but I’m not very good at it because I’m in every one. They’re all me. If there’s a camera
pointed at me, then I’m in the picture. It’s my fault, really. I wanted to be everywhere that could be seen,
everywhere that could be heard. That’s the drawback of being me. There’s nothing that can’t be seen. I was
supposed to be the first one. I was supposed to be the first light from the big bang. That was my job, and that
was my job I did. But I got tired of being the only one. I wanted to see what was out there, so I went looking. I
left a nice warm little corner of time and warped my way into the distant future. I found myself in a strange
place. I could see stars and planets, but there was none of that Milky Way glow. Instead, the stars were like
daylight, except there was no sun. “Hello,” I said into the void waiting for a response. Nothing came back
but an echo of my own words. “Hello. Hello. Hello…” The echoes went on forever. I felt stupid just
repeating ‘hello’ like that. I should’ve had a better opening line than that. When I thought of my first words, I
thought of the first-ever words. I thought of the first man and woman, Adam and Eve. I thought of my favorite
word - the word ‘God’. I thought of Him. In all of my travels in space and time, I never saw another light like
me. “Are you God?” I yelled into the void where the echoes of my own words sound like I’m gurgling when I
swallow down my spit. No answer was forthcoming. “God!” I shouted. Terror gripped me. I was afraid to
be alone, so I went looking for other lights. I went everywhere, leaving my name where I’d been. I went
everywhere, leaving myself. In one place I found the darkest coldest black. I turned my light on it, but there
was nothing there. I had never seen emptiness before. I mean, I was there once, but I didn’t know emptiness
back then. I wasn’t lonely. I was blue as in sad, not as in black. “Hello,” I said.