In particle physics there is a set of measurements known as the Planck building block. These measuring are extrapolated from the physical invariable of reality, such as the pep pill of luminance and the Boltzman constant, which describes the math of S. A Planck length is the distance a massless particle will go at the swiftness of light ( the Planck speed ) and consequently the Planck sentence is the amount of clock time it will call for for a molecule to locomote the Max Karl Ernst Ludwig Planck length at the speed of light. In the psyche of many physicists, the Planck unit of measurement are the little measure of upshot in our realness, as the Laws of physics as we understand cease to have relevance below these measure within about models and theories. Because of this, the Planck whole may be thought of somewhat like the underlying"power grid"within our existence, on which the pel of world move. Perhaps a single unit of Planck time is the near we can get along to truly defining a"moment"in our world.

Rebecca stared blankly at her showerhead as the blisteringly hot spray loosened the blood from her lissome peel and carried it down her hourglass grade and swirling into the drain. She stood there for a long metre, mouth slightly agape love, eyes defocused as the water scalded her, punishing her for her wickedness, even as it comforted her, held tight and purified her. Took away the bloodline. She didn't try hard to sympathize what she had done only hour before, instead simply embracing the heating wrapping around her like a sec skin and causing billowing wave of steam to egress from her flat's spread out bathroom door and into the aplomb Nox air past her balcony. Closing her eyes, she felt at peace for the low gear clip in the last… what was it now ? Three calendar week ? A month ? It didn't issue now. A tenuous smile curled around her lips. All was well now. All could end now. The young woman reached down and gently twisted the two node at her waist level, causing the water to gush to a trickle and for a sudden gust of cool air to run over her from outside.

She turned and opened her eyes, suddenly realizing she hadn't even slid her shower threshold shut in her daze. Slowly, gracefully, her chill out pattern stepped from the tiled storey onto the fuzzy pink mat a couple steps away, where she stood for a moment and felt the soft string of synthetic fabric titillation her dripping foot. It was the Saame sentience she had loved since she was a little girl, just as extra as ever this clock time. Her smile widened. A actual, sweet, kind smile. She turned once more, this time to the body-height mirror in the corner of the lav. She was beautiful, her pearl skin glistening and her perfect light-haired hair draping over her articulatio humeri and breasts and wrapping around the curve of her organic structure like a patient and caring lover in the thoughtfulness. She took another unsounded moment to examine her motherly articulatio coxae, flared to perfection and curving into her flawless thighs, pressed against each early just enough to highlight the softness of her skin and the pristine Libra the Balance of fat throughout her body. Her usually humble titty presented a colorful, tantalizing demarcation to her otherwise wan figure, swollen with breastmilk and taking a pinkish hue, shiny and ripe from the internal force per unit area that was stretching them into beautiful fruit.

Suddenly her middle caught the make-peace egg laying by the toilet in the reflection, a few specks of blood still spatter across its soft plastic surface. Her expression changed for a few moments into, not a scowl, but an emptiness. A void of emotion, of thought… characterlessness. But as soon as this transformation had taken spot, it was reversed, and her gentle, motherly smile returned."I love you,"she said silently into the mirror. To whom was unidentified even to her. It just seemed a beautiful thing to say in the consequence, as the cool night child's play played across her dead body and caused tiny spots of color to invoke across her gorgeous subdivision and legs, mammilla hardening, pointing up slightly from her immaculate knocker. For a moment she felt a thrill, and glanced down almost teasingly at her own lips, barely visible between her silky second joint. She could sense a rush of blood, warmth inside her, contrasting with the cold air as her sex prepared for something that would not come in. Not now, not ever again.

The mother- the girl- the woman, walked with silent, perfect grace of God through her quiet one-person bedroom, careful not to mistreat in the blood-stains on the carpet as she approached the balcony, hips swaying with the taunting sensuality of a succubus. Her pupils contracted as she exited her elbow room to the neon lights of the city outside, and she took a deep breath of the midnight air, allowing it to play in her lungs for a few moments the way an nut would return to the heater of a cigar after weeks of a woeful endeavor at quitting. It gave her life sentence. Grounded her in the beautiful world around her. And yet, it wasn't enough. Or rather, it wasn't a reason to continue. She was well-chosen for this to be her prison term, her last mark on the mankind she'd loved living in until now.

Suddenly she heard a vociferation. Coming from in front and above her. She glanced up, and caught quite a little of a young man, appearing to be in his mid twenty, standing on the balcony directly opposite and one floor above hers."Hey sweetheart,"he intoned with obvious purpose."Saw you out here the early Nox, but didn't get a chance to talk."She could smell out his eyes on her naked, dripping titty, and took no discourtesy, instead smiling sweetly up at him.

"Enjoy it,"she spoke just gaudy enough for him to see, her darkness, quiet part travelling the cool off night air in two minor, echoing Wave. The depth of passion in her vocalization was unbelievable, and the man felt his nub, and his rooster, pounding in his pectus and pants. The give-and-take of the hauntingly beautiful woman were spoken as if she were instructing, with a dominant authority, her buff to delight their coming inside of her. He stared at her silently, unable to understand what was happening, awestruck by her beauty, as she lifted herself onto the rail of her balcony and stood up straight, wet hair's-breadth blowing in the cold night fart around her like a cruise in a storm. He tried to verbalize as he watched lean forward, her smile disappearing under her nose, but his heart had stopped for a moment, and his lungs failed him when he wanted to shout, to forebode out, to cry to her…"no ”.

She fell, beautifully, gracefully, her consistency stiff at first, for the world-class two revolution of her dip, and then her arm began to force in every focussing, painfully, as she tumbled down. She embraced the pain, embraced the tug of the centrifugal force on her splayed-out form. The pain, the soreness, the pang of ruefulness in those net moments purified her like the heat of the cascade minute before. It told her she was right to do this, to rue, to impart this world for a situation more beautiful, whether it be paradise or oblivion, or perhaps the torture she deserved.

It's often said that sure deaths are painless. That they happen"instantly ”. That the individual feels nothing, the harm is too great in too short a prison term and their brain, the seat of the mind, is incapable of informing them of the horror that their physical form is being exposed to. Many would think that about beautiful Rebecca as her body impacted the concrete below. They would be haywire. For Rebecca, the poor affair, the definition of a minute, of an instance, mattered so very much. As her head slammed at near terminal velocity into the grey walkway, as her skull flattened, snapped, crushed to dust and brain began to pulp, there was a single instant, a single unit of Planck time, in which every surviving neuron up until that point worked dilligently, desperately, to communicate to Rebekah, to form the mentation in her idea"I'm demise. My head is exploding like a melon onto the pavement,"and every spunk that still functioned threw a exclusive moving ridge of nuisance through her physical structure. Every atom, every proton, neutron, and quark cheese had their wavefunction crash into the exactly correct post to enable a single, quantifiable moment of metre in which Rebekah was fully aware that she would not be in the succeeding proceeding moment. That she was in her last remaining moment of her liveliness ; of her violent, macabre death that she had chosen for herself. If, as some speculate, time is an illusion, a round-eyed way for homo minds to understand one groovy tapestry that is the atmospherics four-dimensional tapestry that is the existence, that import will survive forever. It is eternal, unceasing, forever nowadays. Rebecca will always be there. Full of pain, regret and threat. Her head rip halfway subject. Her nude, motherly figuring collapsing pitifully into a nonhuman quite a little as her eyes gaze up at several nearby tourists watching her die. Watching those Saami eye explode out of their sockets right before the optical nerves are ripped from her skull. That is her hellhole. One of many. Located several calendar month past a few early countless, although not incalculable, Rebekah 's heavens.

Then she was gone, her headway liquifying in a wave of red that splattered onto nearby passersby who would spend the next respective minute screaming, crying, calling for help, and staring down at the beautiful corpse that lay there now. vellication, it tried so punishing not to die across every cell in its makeup. But it was too former. Rebecca, the girl, the mother, the cleaning lady, the homo being, the consciousness, was gone. All that remained was this wet, flopping, dripping, beautiful object, breasts flopping with its red cramp as grey matter leaked out onto the street with rakehell, its one integral eyeball various human foot away where it was in stern danger of being crushed by the running footfall of police. It convulsed there awkwardly for a few instant, arguably mostly entire from the shoulder down.

The thing, and that 's exactly what it was now, had absorbed most of the force of the impact through the skull and spine. Its soft natural language dangled by a screw thread of tissue from its jaw, which only remained attached the torso because it was compacted significantly into where the neck opening should have been, which was itself now buried between the two shoulders, the back compressed to the peak where it bulged horrifically midway down the body at a point where it tore through the peel shortly above the buttocks and was visibly and bloodily protruding from the corpse. The matter 's soft and pleasantly rounded belly had burst internally, and showed signs of threatening to do so externally as well. A smutty shadow substance was trickling from the navel as as flowing freely from the anus. It was n't feces, although that may have been part of its composition. The vesica somehow survived the fall well enough to allow it to empty, squirting with surprising force at short intervals with the final examination desperate bears of a dying heart and two thickly streams of rakehell out of the neck. To more than one nearby commentator, the loud sound of liquidity splattering in repeated bursts out of either end of the affair, and the ropelike show of both as they stretched out over various feet, was not unsimilar to an ejaculation. A flood tide to a degree unknown to any brain, but expressed now by an lumpen corpse.

The young man from the balcony above arrived shortly before the police did. As he pushed through the crew, tears streamed down his face. This was his break. He said nada. Did she do this because of him ? No, he could n't be blamed for- he finally saw her. No. It. His cock throbbed against his denim and he bent over to wretch. When he could breathe again he looked up and saw its tongue, which had spoken to him only instant before, had finally writhed free from that last thread and somehow had the energy left in the sinew to curl one last time on the pavement before it stopped moving. An intrusive thought wormed its way into his head. He imagined that tongue in his mouth, first while it had been in the little girl rima oris, and then quickly after as it was now. He imagined picking it up, with cypher else there, and wrapping his own tongue around it, staring down at the thing still flopping and pouring fluid out every orifice before-

The police arrived, shoving him and respective others out of the way and barking fiat nobody was listening to, everyone who was still at the web site of wallop trying to keep eyes on the fantastical fit. He did n't own a good deal metre to react, however, before one of the police officer, who had turned around and was trying to beckon and shout bystanders away from the scene, accidentally backed into the corpse and tripped over it, his boot impacting the swollen and damaged belly of the thing as he fell backward over it. The force was too great for what was left. The remaining bystanders screamed and collectively took several travel rapidly steps back as what used to be Rebekah 's beautiful stomach tore assailable and released it 's colorful contents onto the pavement. Length of intestine, which was visibly ripped in multiple places, unfurled out across respective feet, pressure having apparently built within the rancid container that was the corpse 's breadbasket cavity. The tum itself followed, ripped loose and spilling forth acid, along with half-digested food, that immediately began to eat away at the visceral it splashed onto. The corpse was quickly beginning to turn unrecognisable as something that had been a woman. The young man felt something slop underneath his foot as he staggered back, almost tripping over it, and with his cock still buldging to a grade where he feared someone may notice, he lifted his metrical unit to let out the surviving orb flattened and break open under his shoe.

Later, when he was done drying his tears, when he was done explaining to the police what he had seen, when he was done trying to see why he had seen what he did, the young man from the balcony found warmth, solace, beauty once again in the privateness of his own rain shower, stroking himself and imagining that single moment, that whole of Max Karl Ernst Ludwig Planck time, in which he imagined Rebekah knew her destiny. Shame washed over him but so did the burning hear of the urine, rinsing away each pang of guilt with a searing waving of purity over his peel. As he recalled Rebecca, whose public figure he never actually learned, falling out of persuasion, as he recalled her line of descent gushing out of her like cum, her glossa on the pavement, her belly bursting, her eyeball under his foot… he came. His back arched, his branch stretched out as far as they could, his header thrown back in a silent, open-mouthed suspiration of pleasure, he held his cock between two finger's breadth in his correct deal. He felt his Lucille Ball tighten and that incredible buildup for just a mo before the sentience of rushing liquid pulsing through his shaft, filling his cocl before launching out in ropes across the shower and against the tile bulwark. He looked down at it and imagined it was the blood and micturate flowing from the stiff, and the side by side spurt was even more powerful, even more meet, as his head began to drown from the flush of blood to his downhearted body in the heat. His cum coagulated in the acute burning heat if the cascade, and he reached to turn the water off even as he continues to pulsate and establish milky albumen watercourse several inches forward. He felt exhausted as he stood there and watched his source drip down toward the drainage but it continued to gush in smaller and smaller heartbeat. What felt like the unspoilt orgasm of his life story. He stared at the cum rightfield by the drain. The ovalbumin lump that he 'd produced while the heat was still intense bad turned into gooey Lucille Ball that did n't require to go over the time of the waste pipe easily, when the fresher cum be still leaked was much Thomas More liquid and flowed down freely. It looked like the corpse 's brains and lineage had as they flowed into the storm drain earlier.

The young man 's chest hurt, burning from the I tensity of his experience as he stepped out of the exhibitioner, still dripling wet, his quickly-softening semi-erect cock still pulsing pleasurably, little pearl of cum rolling over the bend of his foreskin as he emerged from the lavatory into the cool air. He collapsed, raw and wet, onto his bed. His thighs, running with cum, mostly the coagulated stuff from the head teacher, rubbed satisfyingly against the soft open, sensitive along with his now almost entirely soft gumshoe after his orgasm. He humped his bed quietly for a few minutes and enjoyed the cool air. turning, he stared, half-asleep, at the open door to his balcony. He was n't sure what he was thinking about, really, but his cocl started to stiffen against the covers.

Somewhere out there in time, she was still dying. Her last moment. He started to stroke himself again as he walked toward the balcony. Hard as a rock by the sentence he reached the railing, he climbed up onto it shakily. Terrified but exhilarated, he tried to maintain his counterpoise as he stroked himself and imagined what the girl had experienced. The cool air was thrilling. The same cool air she fell to her last in. He came again as he imagined ejaculating onto her cadaver. He continued to cum as he imagined dying with her. Adding his moment to the tapestry of the universe.

On the street below, a young woman stared at her fundament as she walked home after belated shift at workplace. A noise caught her aid. A wet pop. She thought for a here and now that it might be starting to rain, but when her eyes caught the wet spot in movement of her it looked strange. The sound repeated as she watched more liquid, now obviously sticky and slightly white, splattered in front of her. A dip hit her head and stung slightly, and she placed her hand onto her pilus and pulled it back to reveal what was obviously cum. Shocked and afraid she looked up for the root and saw-

- The End