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The Multiverse

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The Recovery

After I passed through the black marble, I died.

No one, not even light, can escape the gravitational pull of a black hole; but I didn't see this, or understand this, until I'd already touched the event horizon leading towards the black hole's singularity, or collapsing center—which for Daffodil's little marble-sized black hole, was less than an inch around its shell—and after that, I spaghettified.

Then I was gone.

The event horizon is a point of no return, like when a river pulls too hard to avoid the waterfall. I was gone, I'd been gone, I'd never been before. At the bottom of the waterfall, no one had ever heard of me, or even thought I'd existed, except Daffodil.

Somehow, I knew Daffodil remembered me.

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Time Warp

The future didn't flash before my eyes, as I thought it could.

Time warped tremendously, yes, but not so much that I could see history fold in front of me; instead I could only feel history behind me, in a single gasp from the fading planet;

And by the time I gravitated close enough to the singularity where I might've seen the future, I was no longer alive. The singularity was at the dense, oscillating center; so that as it undulated, it moved through me, tearing me limb from limb, memory from memory.

Just before everything went blank, I heard music.

Once I started breaking apart, I wasn't me anymore.

Life is made from dead parts, after all.

Entire orchestras, built on simple notes.

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The Surrender

Just as I accepted I'd died, I reformed in another place, still on the same timeline—in the same pocket universe lulling around the multiverse—and I understood that my family didn't remember me anymore.

I'd say my friends wouldn't remember me either, except it was my desperation for friendship that led me to Daffodil. Any friendships I had before her had collapsed in high school, so I did not feel that loss. My erasure from my past was a painless as an erase mark on a childhood drawing.

I opened my eyes, and Daffodil's golden hair wrapped around me, left and right, up and down.

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Many Facets

We live in a multiverse of many universes, all with their own space-times and physics, same as we live in a city of many people, all with their own bloodlines and belief systems.

We live in a body of many cells, all with their own atoms and subatomic particles, same as we live in a house of many things, all built by their own craftsmen and materials.

The truth encapsulates me. Paralysis chills me to my bones.

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The Rebirth

"I got you," Daffodil whispers, lifting me up. "Come on."

When I died—the moment I passed the event horizon of the marble-sized black hole—I lost my life as a college student on the floating continent of Geneva. Forever.

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