Black & white.

An orb of the purest white hoovers in the air, rotating, undulating, like a virgin planet caught in the nothingness of eternity. As it floats, the orb quivers and subtle ripples move across its surface; the orb isn't solid, it is liquid, a ball of fluid held together by nothing more than its own surface tension. Suddenly, movement in the context of its surroudings suggests that the orb is falling through empty space, hurdling towards an invisible zenith at incalculable speeds.

Asudden, a horizon appears all around it, a 360° vista of an ominous brim, the outer rim of the orb's universe or an impact crater left behind after a vast meteorite mercilessly smashed into the desolate surface of reality. The orb, tiny in comparison, falls and falls, no longer through nothingness and towards eternity, but through a crater, massive and primal, and towards its deathly centre, a ghastly maw filled with a boiling, steaming, oil-like substance. This lake of black liquid fills the crater almost entirely, and it gently sways, as if alive, as if patiently awaiting the virgin white orb, as if knowing it will be there, soon. Soon.

Finally, after eons, the pure white of the orb and the deep black of the lake collide in a cataclysmic explosion, the orb bravely tunneling its way through the hot, dense liquid, using all its force to not fall apart under the pressure. The black liquid pulls at the orb, trying to break its surface tension so that the white will merge with the black. The orb goes, digs, tunnels, but knows it is fighting a lost battle. The black liquid closes the tunnel behind the orb, capturing it in an inky darkness.

The orb loses a battle it was never meant to win. The surface tension breaks, and the orb explodes into a bloom of uncorrupted white, a bright cloud, swirling through the all-enveloping blackness. Then slowly, slowly, it dissipates.

Then I added two lumps of sugar, stirred for a bit, and had myself a lovely cup of coffee.

Yum.