I lay on my back staring up at the ceiling, or was it the sky? It resembled dirty bath water: peeling, dividing the ceiling into 4th’s and 8th’s and 16th’s of disintegrating sludge. I didn’t think that the sky was made of bath water, but I couldn’t be sure. It was moving closer to me, unfolding until there was just a great big hole where the sky had been--or maybe the ceiling! I didn’t move away when it got closer though, I wanted to know how it would end. I always missed stuff, but I wouldn’t this time. The black hole wasn’t black like Ms. Stevens in sixth grade science had told us, it was beige. It walked to me from up above, but slowly (because of air blocked it.) I reached out to touch it, what would a black hole (beige hole) feel like? My gaze followed my fingers into the air, their line of sight made a 180 degree angle, if I had a protractor than I could probably prove it to you. My fingers wiggled in the air, but I couldn’t reach the up above, maybe I was never meant to. Instead I began to fall, down down down into the something, I don’t know exactly. Goodbye and sweet dreams and bed bugs. I closed my eyes and wished for better.