Vincent watched. Zelda didn’t speak.
The black hole. A dark marble that kept growing. As it did, Vincent saw here and he saw there. Reality was sheared, literally two different frames of existence in one picture.
Vincent said to Zelda, “See you on the other side.”
Zelda said, “We did good, human.”
In the grip of the most mysterious and most destructive force in the universe, neither knew if the other could even hear. Black holes are a bitch like that.
Everything breaks down.
Vincent’s next to last thought was a fragment: All the colors of space…
His last thought was about here and there. How can you be in two places at once when you’re not really anywhere at all?
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