Today’s Word: Soporific
The number of kilometers between Mandy and the singularity were enough to swallow several solar systems. And yet that small hole in reality shone forth, limned in the curving photons of starlight flattening as they neared the end of the rainbow.
At seven years of age, quantum theory had been soporific -- a snooze-arama -- but now Mandy found it dominating her life, bending her waking thoughts like light through a prism.
“Pretty, in a galaxy-gorging sort of way, isn’t it?” said Michael, as he moved to join Mandy by the observation windows.
“It will be my proof,” said Mandy, still gazing at her black hole.
“Will you finally tell me what you plan to prove? I’ve come all this way, don’t I deserve to know if no one else?”
She smiled, and looked him in the eyes.
“Our universe is small. Smaller than the next closest one at least. Matter is moving from our little universe into that larger one, the way air passes out of a balloon; it seeks the widest possible area to fill.”
Mike was quiet for a moment, then said, “So you’re saying our universe is like a balloon that’s raspberrying all its matter into the next, flitting around like a crazed bird?”
“Exactly. Our universe is inside the next, dumping everything. And yes, probably flitting round like a rubber ball in zero g.”