Before the ground was grounding and the sky wasn’t a ceiling but a comforter over our heads to keep the monsters under the bed; before the sky, well.
Every story starts “and then, the sky fell” cause absolutely-fucking-no-one, nobody no how, wants to talk about how things are now.
After the sky, literally, fell.
Fucking hell. There is one ring we wish unrung but damn it all, don’t you know, the church bell fell and it cracked that son of gun.