Something—maybe even the thing you love the most—implodes, collapses right in front of you. And the gravitational force of the thing it forms is so strong it pulls on everything else, warps the very fabric of your little place in space-time. It bends the past around you so it keeps repeating, and you can’t see what comes next. You’ll want to run from it. You’ll want to escape before it can suck you into its darkness. But black holes don’t really suck. And whatever falls into them isn’t really gone. Even the light is just hidden. Just for now.
