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At The Fringe Of My Imagination (Pt.XIII)
By joseexist in Musings On Muses
May 9, 2010

On the fringe of my imagination I am standing upon an event horizon. The massive power of the gravity well has the scenery distorted to the point of the distant physical horizon looming almost overhead as a circle. Wisps of dust that are actually light seem to crawl towards me in slow motion. They move fast from far away and decelerate to a snails pace by the time they hit the barrier between existences just below my feet. As they do so their white photonic representations mutate into dark red pin-pricks that suddenly race away towards the nearest pole. Blue-black ghost embark in the opposite direction, but only after the red sprites are well on their way.

I fully realize that the circle above me is the universe I came from, a seemingly flat disc from this vantage point so far down in this ‘well’. I can see no stars, but only whatever has, is, or will ‘fall’ into this super-massive black hole. It’s a little less black and I can feel the life that it hosts. Rain-bowed flecks waft up slowly and gain speed with altitude.

I stomp my right foot and feel the metallic ring that I taste in my mouth long before the vibration reaches my brain stem. The entire scene ripples like some type of liquid with an infinitely taught surface tension. My right boot is now four inches taller than my left so I stomp my left and deploy that ‘skate’ as well. I casually turn towards the nearest pole and saunter away from my landing zone. This is just a Sunday afternoon skate thru the park.

I keep an eye on the dark red rain just below and slowly pick up speed. I parallel the flow and after a few (lifetimes?), moments, I look up to take in the spectacle ahead.

The red rain gains speed as it nears the pole. Its hue lightens as it lifts from the event horizon almost imperceptibly at first. Then it makes a curved ninety-degree ascent, spins itself into an infinitely complex braid and flits out of existence. A bright red cone marks its release from reality. Just below the braided field of red, soft blue brightness helicoids downwards. Light-months away radioactive rays re-exist and spray out into the cosmos. I see the expulsion as a painfully bent arc of energy curving overhead somewhat. The distortion of reality is a bit less here near the pole but still I have to adjust my perception to understand the physics of what I am seeing.

I slide nearer to the empty zone where everything ceases to exist. I’m going into that place to be shot out of the pole. I dive forward and make a half-twist. Landing on my back I surf the red-wave thru its sudden course correction. My atoms loosen up a bit and I become one with the delicate yet energetic braid of demi-matter. All that I am become a singularity unto itself. From the tip of the red cone I squeeze forth like hot metal over an anvil. It’s like the hammer just landed its first blow. The horizon peels back and falls away to a normal curvature. I hang in limbo, awaiting my re-injection into reality and real time-space.

It feels like I have been hibernating at the core of a star. The true cold of normal space slams into my atoms and they scream like hyper novae. I am ‘post-light’ and still accelerating. My wake fans out and disperses evenly. Nearby planets will be spared, this time. I look back at the black hole and savor the memory of its electro-metallic taste. Stars are still falling in.