As you enter the office supply store, your gaze is uncontrollably drawn to a patch of darkness. Darker than the loneliest night, darker than your deepest depression, darker than your greatest fears. This tear in the very fabric of reality screams with the promise of unimaginable horrors that await to rape your sanity should light ever be allowed to enter. Your vision blurs, your senses dull, you feel your very essence pulled into the black hole so powerful that nothing, not even pants and an obviously too loose belt, can hide it from the public view.
Finally you pull yourself away, back from the blackness to the colorful world of office supplies. As you lie awake for nights on end trying not to dream of the hole to hell itself you found yourself exposed unwittingly to, you wonder what nefarious plan so captivated the fissure’s caretaker that he lapsed in his duties and allowed that which should never be seen to assault your eyes.
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