"The gravitational pulls are only illusions," she murmured through the haze of dreams, "orbiting, spiraling, yet the stillness is absolute, isn't it?"
Data point sequence 993B - anomaly detected, constellations rearranging under the weight of unseen calculations. We must adjust our lenses, recalibrate the perception.
And did you hear about the neutron star's whistle? They say it's a song, vibrating threads of spacetime, harmonizing with the void.
She whispered again, "Everything is a cycle, my dear. Even in dreams, the physics are unforgiving."
But the coffee was brewing, and somewhere, a clock ticked the time away from desires into realities.
If the stars could speak, would they echo the silence? Would they define gravity's poetry, charting love letters across the expanse?