Absolute Zeros

It was in high school chemistry, thanks to one of Newton's laws, that I came up with my black hole theory. Newton's law explained that any gas at absolute zero would have a volume of zero, which could not happen in a friction-filled atmosphere.

But maybe it could happen in space, I said.

Maybe the center of a black hole was absolutely cold, instead of super-dense and hot as scientists propose.

Gas and space debris could get sucked into the hole; the closer it got, the colder it would become, until at the center of the hole it reached absolute zero and ceased to have volume. It would be the perfect vacuum, new objects and air always rushing in to fill the space and never being able to, never making contact with the center.

Well, maybe, my chemistry teacher said. But that's a physics question.

Maybe, said my physics teacher the next year, but we're working on vectors.

I've never bothered to ask a research scientist about my black hole theory, for which I created graphs and charts, drawn on a giant sheet of paper covering my bedroom wall. I'm less invested in astrophysics than I once was, and I'd rather not find out officially that I'm wrong.

But the theory holds true, I think, for emotional vacuums.