In particle physics there is a set of measure known as the Planck units. These measurements are extrapolated from the forcible constants of realness, such as the swiftness of light and the Boltzman constant, which describes the mathematics of selective information. A Planck length is the distance a massless subatomic particle will locomote at the speed of brightness ( the Planck velocity ) and consequently the Planck clock time is the amount of money of clock time it will hire for a particle to travel the Planck length at the hurrying of light. In the minds of many physicists, the Planck units are the belittled measurements of consequence in our reality, as the laws of cathartic as we understand cease to stimulate relevance below these measure within most role model and possibility. Because of this, the Planck units may be thought of somewhat like the underlying"power system"within our universe, on which the pixels of reality relocation. Perhaps a single unit of Max Planck metre is the closest we can amount to truly defining a"here and now"in our world.

Rebecca stared blankly at her showerhead as the blisteringly hot spray loosened the blood line from her sylphlike hide and carried it down her hourglass form and swirling into the drain. She stood there for a long time, mouth slightly agape, eye defocused as the water supply scalded her, punishing her for her sine, even as it comforted her, held blind drunk and purified her. remove away the blood. She didn't try hard to understand what she had done only minutes before, instead simply embracing the passion wrapping around her like a secondment tegument and causing billowing undulation of steam to emerge from her apartment's open can door and into the cool Night air past her balcony. Closing her eyes, she felt at peace for the first time in the last… what was it now ? Three workweek ? A calendar month ? It didn't matter now. A flimsy grin curled around her lips. All was well now. All could end now. The Whitney Moore Young Jr. woman reached down and gently twisted the two knobs at her waist level, causing the H2O to spout to a drip and for a sudden gust of cool air to run over her from outside.

She turned and opened her middle, suddenly realizing she hadn't even slid her cascade door shut in her haze. Slowly, gracefully, her tranquil shape stepped from the tile floor onto the fuzzy garden pink mat a couple footstep away, where she stood for a moment and felt the subdued strands of synthetic cloth tickle her drippage substructure. It was the like sensation she had loved since she was a short girl, just as special as ever this time. Her smiling widened. A genuine, sweet, kind smile. She turned once more, this time to the body-height mirror in the box of the lav. She was beautiful, her ivory skin glistening and her perfect light-haired hair draping over her shoulders and breasts and wrapping around the curvature of her consistency like a patient and caring lover in the reflection. She took another silent bit to examine her motherly rosehip, flared to flawlessness and curving into her flawless thighs, pressed against each other just enough to highlight the softness of her skin and the pristine proportionality of fat throughout her eubstance. Her usually modest breast presented a colorful, tantalizing line to her otherwise pale figure, swollen with breastmilk and taking a pinkish hue, shiny and ripe from the home pressure that was stretching them into beautiful fruit.

Suddenly her eye caught the pacifier laying by the toilet in the manifestation, a few specks of blood still spatter across its lenient plastic surface. Her expression changed for a few moments into, not a frown, but an void. A void of emotion, of thought… characterlessness. But as soon as this transformation had taken place, it was reversed, and her gentle, motherly smile returned."I love you,"she said silently into the mirror. To whom was unsung even to her. It just seemed a beautiful thing to say in the minute, as the cool night breeze played across her torso and caused lilliputian smudge of gloss to raise across her gorgeous subdivision and legs, nipples hardening, pointing up slightly from her immaculate breast. 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 finger a bang of stock, warmth inside her, contrasting with the cold air as her sex prepared for something that would not come. Not now, not ever again.

The mother- the girl- the woman, walked with silent, perfect grace through her quiet one-person bedroom, careful not to step in the blood-stains on the rug as she approached the balcony, hips swaying with the taunting sensualness of a succubus. Her school-age child contracted as she exited her room to the neon lights of the urban center outside, and she took a deep breathing time of the midnight air, allowing it to wager in her lungs for a few moments the way an junkie would return to the smoke of a cigar after weeks of a low attempt at quitting. It gave her life. Grounded her in the beautiful world around her. And yet, it wasn't enough. Or rather, it wasn't a grounds to remain. She was happy for this to be her meter, her last mark on the existence she'd loved support in until now.

Suddenly she heard a shout. Coming from in strawman and above her. She glanced up, and caught sight of a young man, appearing to be in his mid twenties, standing on the balcony directly opposite and one floor above hers."Hey ravisher,"he intoned with obvious purpose."Saw you out here the other Night, but didn't get a probability to talk."She could sense his eyes on her naked, dripping breast, and took no offense, instead smiling sweetly up at him.

"Enjoy it,"she spoke just loud enough for him to hear, her dark, fluent voice travelling the sang-froid nighttime air in two small, echoing waving. The deepness of Passion in her vox was unbelievable, and the man felt his heart, and his cock, pounding in his chest and gasp. The words of the hauntingly beautiful woman were spoken as if she were instructing, with a prevalent authorisation, her lover to revel their orgasm inside of her. He stared at her silently, ineffectual to read what was happening, awestruck by her beauty, as she lifted herself onto the railing of her balcony and stood up straight, wet hair blowing in the low temperature night wind around her like a sail in a storm. He tried to verbalize as he watched lean forward, her smile disappearing under her nozzle, but his bosom had stopped for a moment, and his lungs failed him when he wanted to clapperclaw, to call out, to cry to her…"no ”.

She fell, beautifully, gracefully, her body stiff at first, for the start two rotary motion of her drop, and then her arm began to pull in every direction, painfully, as she tumbled down. She embraced the pain, embraced the tug of the centrifugal effect on her splayed-out manikin. The pain in the neck, the discomfort, the sting of regret in those final here and now purified her like the heat of the shower arcminute before. It told her she was right to do this, to repent, to leave this human beings for a place more beautiful, whether it be paradise or limbo, or perhaps the torture she deserved.

It's often said that sure deaths are painless. That they happen"instantly ”. That the individual tone nil, the hurt is too great in too short a time and their brain, the seat of the mind, is unequal to of informing them of the repulsion that their strong-arm course is being exposed to. Many would suppose that about beautiful Rebekah as her physical structure impacted the concrete below. They would be wrong. For Rebekah, the short matter, the definition of a moment, of an representative, mattered so much. As her head slammed at near terminal velocity into the Second Earl Grey walkway, as her skull flattened, snapped, crushed to dust and mastermind began to flesh, there was a single moment, a single social unit of Planck time, in which every surviving neuron up until that point worked dilligently, desperately, to communicate to Rebekah, to constitute the thought in her judgment"I'm death. My capitulum is exploding like a melon onto the sidewalk,"and every nerve that still functioned threw a I wave of pain through her body. Every atom, every proton, neutron, and quark had their wavefunction prostration into the exactly right position to enable a single, quantifiable here and now of time in which Rebecca was fully aware that she would not be in the next proceeding second. That she was in her hold out rest here and now of her life ; of her violent, gruesome death that she had chosen for herself. If, as some speculate, sentence is an thaumaturgy, a simple way for human judgment to understand one peachy tapis that is the still four-dimensional tapestry that is the universe, that moment will last forever. It is unceasing, constant, forever represent. Rebecca will always be there. full moon of bother, sorrow and threat. Her principal split halfway open. Her defenseless, motherly figuring collapsing pitifully into a nonhuman deal as her center gaze up at respective nearby tourists watching her die. Watching those Lapp eyes explode out of their sockets right before the opthalmic brass are ripped from her skull. That is her the pits. One of many. Located several months past a few other countless, although not incalculable, Rebecca 's heavens.

Then she was gone, her top dog liquifying in a wave of red that splattered onto nearby passersby who would spend the next several minutes screaming, crying, calling for service, and staring down at the beautiful stiff that lay there now. twitching, it tried so heavily not to die across every cellphone in its makeup. But it was too of late. Rebecca, the young woman, the mother, the woman, the human being being, the knowingness, was gone. All that remained was this wet, flopping, dripping, beautiful target, breasts flopping with its violent spasms as grizzly affair leaked out onto the street with blood, its one intact eyeball several pes away where it was in austere danger of being crushed by the bleed footsteps of constabulary. It convulsed there awkwardly for a few minutes, arguably mostly intact from the articulatio humeri down.

The thing, and that 's exactly what it was now, had absorbed nigh of the force of the encroachment through the skull and backbone. Its soft tongue dangled by a yarn of tissue from its jaw, which only remained attached the torso because it was compacted significantly into where the cervix should take in been, which was itself now buried between the two shoulders, the spine compressed to the full point where it bulged horrifically midway down the torso at a dot where it tore through the hide shortly above the bottom and was visibly and bloodily protruding from the corpse. The matter 's soft and pleasantly rounded belly had burst internally, and showed augury of threatening to do so externally as well. A nasty dark substance was trickling from the navel as as flowing freely from the anus. It was n't stool, although that may have been parting of its composition. The vesica somehow survived the fall well enough to allow it to void, squirting with storm violence at short intervals with the final desperate bears of a dying bosom and two thick streams of blood out of the neck. To Sir Thomas More than one nearby percipient, the tawdry audio of liquid splattering in recapitulate bursts out of either end of the thing, and the ropelike appearance of both as they stretched out over respective feet, was not unsimilar to an ejaculation. A climax to a academic degree unknown to any mind, but expressed now by an unthinking corpse.

The young man from the balcony above arrived shortly before the police did. As he pushed through the crowd, rent streamed down his face. This was his flaw. He said zero. 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 dungaree and he bent over to wretch. When he could take a breath again he looked up and saw its natural language, which had spoken to him only minute before, had finally writhed free from that last thread and somehow had the energy left in the muscle to curl one finally time on the pavement before it stopped moving. An intrusive thought wormed its way into his head. He imagined that glossa in his back talk, first while it had been in the girls back talk, and then quickly after as it was now. He imagined picking it up, with cipher else there, and wrapping his own clapper around it, staring down at the thing still flopping and pouring fluid out every porta before-

The police force arrived, shoving him and several others out of the way and barking order nobody was listening to, everyone who was still at the site of impingement trying to keep eyes on the fantastical setting. He did n't have lots time to respond, however, before one of the police force officers, who had turned around and was trying to wave and shout bystanders away from the picture, accidentally backed into the corpse and tripped over it, his rush impacting the swollen and damaged belly of the thing as he fell backward over it. The violence was too great for what was left. The remaining bystanders screamed and collectively took several hurried steps back as what used to be Rebecca 's beautiful tummy tore open up and released it 's colored table of contents onto the paving. Length of intestine, which was visibly ripped in multiple station, unfurled out across several feet, pressure level having apparently built within the rancid container that was the corpse 's belly pit. The stomach itself followed, ripped open and spilling Forth River acid, along with half-digested food, that immediately began to eat away at the nonrational it splashed onto. The corpse was quickly beginning to become unrecognizable as something that had been a charwoman. The Danton True Young man felt something squish underneath his foot as he staggered back, almost tripping over it, and with his tool still buldging to a academic degree where he feared mortal may notice, he lifted his substructure to reveal the surviving eyeball flattened and burst 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 read why he had seen what he did, the young man from the balcony found warmth, solace, beauty once again in the privacy of his own shower, stroking himself and imagining that ace present moment, that unit of Planck time, in which he imagined Rebecca knew her fate. Shame washed over him but so did the burn hear of the water, rinsing away each pang of guilt with a searing wafture of pureness over his peel. As he recalled Rebecca, whose epithet he never actually learned, falling out of view, as he recalled her line gushing out of her like cum, her knife on the pavement, her belly bursting, her eyeball under his foot… he came. His backbone arched, his branch stretched out as far as they could, his psyche thrown back in a mute, open-mouthed sigh of joy, he held his cock between two fingers in his right-hand hand. He felt his testis tighten and that incredible buildup for just a second before the whiz of rushing liquid pulsing through his shaft, filling his cocl before launching out in ropes across the exhibitor and against the tile paries. He looked down at it and imagined it was the lineage and piss flowing from the cadaver, and the next spirt was even more sinewy, even more satisfying, as his nous began to drown from the Rush of blood to his blue body in the heating. His cum coagulated in the vivid burning high temperature if the shower, and he reached to turn the water supply off even as he continues to throb and launch milky white current various inches forward. He felt exhausted as he stood there and watched his seed drip down toward the drainage but it continued to spurt in pocket-sized and smaller pulses. What felt like the honest orgasm of his animation. He stared at the cum rightfulness by the drain. The Patrick White globs that he 'd produced while the heat was still acute bad turned into gooey nut that did n't want to go over the time of the drainage easily, when the fresher cum be still leaked was much more swimming and flowed down freely. It looked like the corpse 's brains and blood had as they flowed into the tempest drain earlier.

The untested man 's chest hurt, burning from the I tautness of his experience as he stepped out of the rain shower, still dripling wet, his quickly-softening semi-erect tool still pulsing pleasurably, trivial beads of cum rolling over the sheepcote of his foreskin as he emerged from the can into the cool air. He collapsed, naked and wet, onto his bed. His thighs, running with cum, mostly the coagulated stuff from the head, rubbed satisfyingly against the voiced aerofoil, sensitive along with his now almost entirely flabby tool after his orgasm. He humped his bed quietly for a few proceedings 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 tighten against the covers.

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

On the street below, a young charwoman stared at her feet as she walked home after late shift at work. A interference caught her care. A wet pop. She thought for a minute that it might be starting to rain, but when her eyes caught the wet spot in front of her it looked strange. The sound repeated as she watched more liquid, now obviously viscous and slightly blank, splattered in front of her. A drop hit her head and stung slightly, and she placed her hired man onto her hair's-breadth and pulled it back to reveal what was obviously cum. Shocked and afraid she looked up for the source and saw-

- The End