Prompt

A single, obsidianblack spool of thread, woven from solidified silence and the faint afterimage of a forgotten heartbeat, rests atop a rotating plinth made of polished, selfrepairing obsidian that mirrors the surface of a black hole. The thread is not stillit unravels at a rate of one nanometer per century, each strand emitting a faint, subsonic hum that resonates with the emotional frequency of the observers last unspoken apology. The plinth rotates in perfect sync with the slow, rhythmic pulse of a dying star visible through a dome of transparent, crystallized night sky, which is not glass but a thin membrane of solidified darkness that shimmers with the faint, ghostly outlines of const

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