As far as we know, we always were, and the rocks we juggled and threw around came to fill the empty void. For aeons we let them fall where they would, but it came to us that order might be more seemly and we began our self-imposed task.
It was good, and as the little rocks spun round the big fires a beautiful symmetry was formed.
And the things that lived on the rocks grew minds and voices. They cried into the void.
‘Where did we come from?’
The void ignored them, so they made up their own stories.