He closed his eyes, still smiling. "Pick an apocalypse, any apocalypse. A sea of black oil and dead things. No wind. No light. Nothing stirring, not even an ant, a spider. A silent universe. Such is the end of the flicker of time, the brief, hot fuse of events and ideas set off, accidentally, and snuffed out, accidentally, by man. Not a real ending of course, not even a beginning. Mere ripple in Time's stream.
.
I squinted. "That really could happen?"
.
"It has happened," he said - and smiled as if it pleased him - "in the future. I am the witness."
.
(from Grendel, by John Gardner)
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