Oblivion

I feel the pull of oblivion.

I’m about to die, and no one will ever know. It was a risk, they told us, but not one I ever took all that seriously. Instead, I had imagined celebrity. I had expected interviews about the courage it took to leave my planet and sail off into the unknown.

Stupid.

The crushing pressure of inevitability.

Half the reason I left was because I knew no one would miss me. Exploration! Adventure! The advancement of the human race! It sounded fantastic – like an opportunity to give my life meaning, instead of surrendering to the empty void that was open in front of me.

Ironic.

I’m falling, and I may never stop.

If it had been a supernova, then eventually earth would have found out. Centuries later, that annihilating light would have reached terrestrial eyes. They would have known my fate, if not the details. Even if it was a simple equipment malfunction, remains might have endured. But nothing escapes a black hole. No distress signals, no wreckage, not even light.

Inescapable.

What was it all for?

Wonder and awe. Light bends and swirls. Time stretches and breaks apart. Reality ripples. The universe consumes me.

* * *

Story by Gregory M. Fox