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The black hole

Everybody got excited about the event in the editorial office when the first report came in.



They were speaking about meteors, about a missed H-Bomb experiment and, of course, about alien arrivals. My friend John entered the scene, travelled to the Jamal Peninsula to observe what’s called “the black hole” by the natives, which was highly inappropriate; you cannot name a ditch on a planet like that.



Anyway, on the day John arrived at the Jamal Peninsula he gave me a call from a phone booth and told me that the name wasn’t so inappropriate. Before he entered the hole, he threw in a rock in he couldn’t find afterwards, and he meant a huge human head-size rock which are, in case of crashing, would also leave remains on the bottom of the hole except it didn’t.



When I hung up the phone, I did some research on the internet about the Tunguska crater, which has generated numerous theories about alien landings. I also found a book which told that the Tunguska asteroid had delivered extra-terrestrial fungi to Earth which spread all across the ancient Eurasian continent causing human races to grow in brain volume by digesting these fungi in different ways. During my research John called again and told me that he found five more holes with approximately the same width and depth as the first one.

It was a bit mysterious, but first I didn’t care about that, because John was said to a mysterious person, always bothering with plotting and interpreting in a paranoid style, and as a matter of fact he was a bit theatrical too. He also liked conspiracy theories. I think he was trying to act as a detective, a private eye.


When he got back to the office he looked awful, tired, exhausted. I pulled him inside a smaller conference room and ask about the events. He told me to leave him alone, so I left him alone, but during the next few days, as I watched him from my desk, I saw him getting darker and fall apart. He didn’t clean himself, he was torn, he walked like a ghost among us, until one day he disappeared.



A week after his disappearance I received a package at my workplace, which was pretty heavy, and when I opened it I found some smashed rocks in it. I put them under my table and didn’t care about it. I thought this could be some kind of joke by John. I thought he was bored so he’s trying to make his own story with his own spooky disappearance. I didn’t hear anything about him until one day a newsflash came on the television which reported a video about a man jumping in one of the holes in Jamal. „So theatrical”, I said to myself, but when the news reporter went on revealing the tape, I got frozen. When the video showed the bottom of the hole after the man jumped in it, nobody was found there.



I swallowed heavily, got scared watching the news, when suddenly the doorbell rang.

There stood a postman with a huge package, a size of an old TV-set, or a microwave oven. I helped the postman settle the box in the living room.



I stood there confused, scared. „I don’t need any more rocks”, I said to myself and I wasn’t willing to open the pack.