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They're bright and beautiful, a shining glory of the universe, irresistible and so far unexplainable. Yet they bring great pain, drawing people in, dragging them out, ripping them to shreds the same as they do to themselves. The holes in time clawing at a place they don't belong, trying desperately to merge one period into another, to make sense, fighting to keep their skewed order at any cost. Shining like a beacon, they draw us like moths to the flame but where there's such light, blinding as it is, all around must appear that bit darker.
Today it seems true, everyone dressed in black. Nick wishes he could turn his back on the light, close his eyes and go back to sleep, because what's a dream to some has become a nightmare to him.