Black hole

There is a place where time unravels, where gravity bends, and all that once was is swallowed into the infinite. A scent that does not merely linger but consumes—pulling inward, deeper, past the event horizon of memory and desire.At first, there is light—a fleeting shimmer before the void calls. Then, silence. A slow descent into the unknown, where echoes of what once existed blur into shadow. The weight of something unspoken, something vast yet intimate, wraps around you like the remnants of a collapsing star.And then—nothing. A quiet so profound it hums, a presence so dark it glows.